Teenage Memorandum
by the Last Flowerchild
Summary: Pickles is a teenager living with his parents. One fateful summer his father sends him to a reform school in Norway, where he meets up with another young boy named Toki Wartooth. Teenage Pickles/Toki slash.
1. Chapter 1::Say Goodbye

****YES, I AM BACK, MOTHERFUCKER!**  
><strong>**Ahem...anyways...**

****WARNINGS**  
><strong>**Slash, drug/alcohol usage, bad language.  
><strong>**Since I'm back, I'll say it with a new found spirit; if you don't like it, don't read it!**

****DISCLAIMER**  
><strong>**Despite my long brake from fanfic, no, I still am unable to claim any characters that I mention in this story as my own.  
>Only GuntherGunter Bekker, Duncan, Jen, Geoff, and Bree are mine. The story idea is mine, too.**

****PLEASE NOTE**  
><strong>**In this story Pickles is a teenager living in his hometown of Tomahawk, Wisconsin.  
>Toki is a few years younger than him and living in Norway.<br>_Dethklok _isn't in existence yet.**

_**Reviews are love.**_

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_I don't mind the sun sometimes the images it shows  
>I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes<br>Cinnamon and sugar-y and softly spoken lies  
>You never know just how you look through other people's eyes <em>

_-Pepper, by the Butthole Surfers_

_**CHAPTER 1: SAY GOODBYE**_

Pickles sat in his desk during his last class glaring down at his paper and scribbling a few carefully chosen words. They weren't much to anyone who wasn't him; mostly angry, sloppily written scrawls of _'hate', 'fucking bullshit', _and _'fuck the world' _covered the scrap of paper. Next to him the other students had pushed their desks together into a few groups and were talking quite loudly. Pickles just let out an angry sigh, balled up the piece of paper, threw it at one of the other kids, and laid his head down in his arms. He should be excited, he knew. He should be just as happy and carefree as any of the other teenagers—it was the last day of his junior year in high school after all, and despite everything he'd managed to scrape by and pass. He wasn't, though. The summer brought on a whole new load of problems that he just wasn't ready to put up with. His parents, his brother, his father's constant nagging him to get a job...

Suddenly the chatter of the other teenagers gave way to silence as the clock ticked its way a few seconds closer to the final, lifesaving bell. Summer, they all lived for that sweet, fulfilling summer, those few months of wonderful freedom without teachers, tests, homework, or the burden of learning. Pickles felt sick as the bell sounded out thru the school. He didn't pick his head up right away; he let everyone else leave before hauling himself to his feet, throwing his book sack over his shoulders, and stalking like an animal out the door. Just before he left, his teacher gave him a nod. Pickles wasn't stupid. Every one of his teachers gave him that same look, that same nod. _It was a horrible year and I'm glad you're out of my class—hell, I'm glad you're almost out of high school and I'll never have to see your sorry, trouble-making ass ever again._

Pickles allowed a look of utter disdain come over his face as he pushed his way past all the other stupid students in the hallway. "Get outta my way." he would murmur when they gave him a deadly look. It was no wonder that everyone in the whole school hated the redhead. He came from a well-to-do family, true, but in general he was an absolute asshole to anyone who was unfortunate enough to meet him. The only group of students that remotely tolerated his short temper and constant insults were the stoners, and that was just because the teenager often spent his extra money on drugs. Now that it was the summer, all Pickles had to look forward to were long days spent in overgrown fields with his only real friend, Gunther Bekker.

"Move outta my way, dipshit." he snapped, elbowing an embracing couple to the side, into a wall of old lockers. Just as he began to make his way down stairs to the parking lot Bekker caught up to him, grinning like every other idiot. Pickles rolled his eyes and asked, his voice full of derision, "Whadda want, Gunter?" Gunter. Naturally, his accent got in the way of him pronouncing many things, especially his best friend's name. Then again, it was like that for many of the people in Wisconsin, not just him. Besides, Gunther never bothered to correct him on the mispronunciation.

"It's summer." Bekker said in a breathless, carefree sort of way.

"So what?" the other teenager snapped. " 'Dat don't mean nothin' for me, idiot." he jammed his hands deep down into the pockets of his black jacket and began walking a little faster. Unfortunately for him, Bekker kept up quite easily.

His smile didn't lessen as he shrugged off the redhead's bitterness and continued, "Y'know what we did last year when school was over?"

Pickles shrugged. "I dunno, can't remember."

"That's 'cause we went down to that field, parked my truck, and got drunk."

"Oh yeah, I remember now. We gat Jen Gabardi to come too, huh?" he chuckled to himself at this memory. Jen Gabardi, his Italian princess...

"Yeah," Bekker said, nodding. "and this year we should do the same thing. C'mon, let's-"

"I can't, not today."

Bekker made no attempt to hide his disappointment. "Why not?"

"My stupid mother made Seth come and pick me up today. He's waiting for me."

"You still ain't got a car?"

Pickles glared over at him and spat, "Nah, course I ain't gotta car, 'cause my dad knows that if I _did _have one I'd never be at home, I'd be getting drunk and screwin' around."

"But you do that anyway even without a ca-"

"Fuck it, Bekker, just shut up." the redhead interrupted. "I already don't like having to ride home with Seth, so don't make it worse."

"Whatever." he said. Whatever was their general way of apologizing to each other, a sort of more prideful way of saying, 'I'm sorry'.

As Pickles walked past the lines of filling buses he thought aloud, "Y'know, I should've failed three classes this year. The only reason they passed me is 'cause they want me gone."

"You had shitty teachers."

"It ain't the teachers fault, dude." he muttered, biting his lower lip in thought. "S'mine, and when my stupid dad gets my report card, he'll beat the hell outta me."

Bekker arched a brow. "Why? You passed, right?"

"Barley—a 'D' in Algebra and in English...they just gave me a free pass, 'dat's it."

"Oh." he distractedly smacked on the wad of gum he'd been chewing—Bekker was never without gum—and suggested, "You could come to my house."

Pickles laughed openly at this idea and shook his head as they reached the parking lot. "Your parents hate me, dude. Everyonehates me." He saw Seth waiting for him, impatiently smoking a cigarette inside of his car. The smoke drifted out of a slightly opened window. He hesitated, stopped, and swallowed. "Meet me tomorrow?"

"What time?"

"Early—nine. I don't wanna be stuck at my house all day."

" 'Kay, whatever." and Bekker glanced over at Seth's car and turned to leave. "See ya then, I guess."

"Yeah." Pickles said before pulling an unlit cigarette out of his own pocket. From his shoe he brought out an old lighter; without a second thought he lit up in the school parking lot and then made his way over to his older brother's car. As soon as he had thrown his book sack into the back seat, Seth let out a curse of disapproval.

"Fuck no, little bro. Put it _out."_

"Fuck you, asshole." he spat, plopping down into the seat next to Seth. He slammed the car door shut and stuck the cigarette between his lips. His brother glared at him and tried to pluck the cigarette out of his mouth, but Pickles punched him hard in the stomach and let out a breath of smoky air. "Just drive home and don't be a bitch about it."

"Not in my car, you little prick."

He tried to take the cigarette away from Pickles again, and this earned him another punch. The redhead just laughed at his brother and mocked, "Not in your life, jackass. Now _drive."_

"Little piece of shit..." Seth said to himself as he pulled the car out of the parking lot and proceeded to drive home. There was a long, heavy period of silence before Seth dared to say anything else. As they came to the first red light he stared at his younger brother and thought aloud, "I guess I don't blame them..."

"Huh?" Pickles let out another breath of smoky air and flicked his cigarette out the window. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Oh, yeah, you don't know." a malicious, almost evil grin came upon Seth's face. "They haven't told you yet..."

"What the hell are you talkin' about, dick?"

"Ma and dad, you pissed them off one to many times, little bro."

The redhead scoffed. "Like I care. They don't give a fuck about me, so why should I try to make their lives easier?"

"They do own you, y'know."

He laughed at this. "No they don't. I'm nineteen, nobody owns me."

Seth merely focused his attention on the road in front of him and said knowingly, "Whatever you say, prick."

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That night dinner was a solemn occasion. Pickles' father sat at the table drinking from his glass of brandy, staring at his youngest son with a look of contempt on his face. His wife tried to keep up a pleasant conversation, but this was proven to be a difficult task. "Seth," she said earnestly, "how'd school go today?"

"Good, really good," he answered, chewing on a mouthful of food. Pickles rolled his eyes at this. Seth was in college, though he mostly just skipped class and went to run around bars with his friends and girls. When he said that his day had been 'good, really good,' then that meant all he'd done that day was smoke a little crack in the back room of a club and fuck a few girls. His parents, of course, believed their oldest son's every word and were proud of him. In fact, they often bragged of their son's 'college education'.

"What about you, Pickles?" his mother asked, taking a small sip of wine from her glass. "Good day today?"

"Huh?" he was jolted out of a daydream that he'd been having of one of his ex-girlfriends, Jen. His face reddened as he shoveled some food into his mouth in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "Yeah," he said thru his mouthful of food. "fine, it was good." And Jen came back to his mind. Jen, lovely, sexy, insane Jen, the girl that was still desperately calling him, writing him notes, sending him delicious, naked pictures of her-

"That's good." his mother said offhandedly. She glanced almost uneasily over to her husband, who was still glaring at Pickles. "Well, your father-"

But the boy wasn't listening, he was remembering just how Jen had smelled—like the sweet little honeysuckles that grew along a fence in the field where he and Gunther usuall hung out...Her kiss, her lips, so shimmering as she coated them with that damn gloss that came from that pink tube, like cotton candy that melted but never went away. He'd wanted so many times to just devour her, to absolutely fucking-

"Pickles! Pickles, are you listening to your mother?" his father suddenly snapped. The redhead jumped and let out a little gasp of surprise. His father glared at him from across the table and inquired coldly, "Well, are you listening or not?"

"I...what?"

The man sighed and said to his wife, "See, darling? _This _is why we have to do it! _This _is why we should send him away."

Now Pickles was listening. He perked up a little and sat a tad bit straighter in his seat. "Send me away? What are you..." his voice trailed off as he thought back to what Seth had said in the car. He looked over to his older brother, who was grinning to himself and staring at his parents as they whispered amongst themselves.

All thoughts of Jen were pushed from the teenager's mind as he swallowed and listened to his mother say, "Yes, I know, but it's so far away...couldn't we just ground him for the summer and take away his cell phone?"

"We could, but it didn't make much of a difference last time we did it." he drank down the rest of his brandy and added, "Who knows, maybe this could be a good change for him. Maybe he'll come back totally-"

"Where am I gonna be comin' back from?" Pickles exclaimed, pounding his fists on the table in a sudden rage. His mother and father slowly met his angry gaze; his mother looked away, but his father's look of resentment didn't waver.

He said to his son coolly, "Well, your mother and I have been talking, and we're very disappointed in your attitude towards school, your teachers, us, your brother..."

"So what?" he demanded, cracking his knuckles. "You're sendin' me away to Aunt Mary's again to get baptized in that damn river?"

"There is a special school for children like you," his father said, giving his son a devious little smile. "For children who have no other way of getting an education because they're so troublesome."

"_Troublesome? _I'm-"

"Yes, it's quite a distance away," he continued, pouring himself another drink. His wife watched him with wide eyes, fearful of how her son might react to what he was about to hear. Just as Pickles lost it, just as he bolted up out of his seat, flung his plate of food at the wall, and prepared to yell his damn head off, his father said, "It's in a small little city in Norway."

The look of shock that came across Pickles' face was priceless. Seth couldn't help but to repeat, "Norway, it's in _Norway! _All the way in God damn-"

"Seth," his mother said, quickly rising to her feet. "come on and be a good boy. Help me clean up the dishes." she took a handful of empty plates and hurried out of the room, her oldest son following close behind. Once they had left Pickles fell back into his chair; he felt the strength and anger leave his body.

"I...I don't get it." was all he had the nerve left to say.

His father, that smile still on his face, said hatefully, "I was the one who suggested it to your mother. It's not a long-term thing _yet, _but if you don't shape up there, then we'll enroll you in that school permanently." and he thought for a moment then said, "I believe the place is called—well I can't really pronounce it. Here-" he pulled out a folded brochure and passed it over to his son. "-you'd better learn the name of the place before we send you there." as he rose to his feet and went to exit the room, he added, "You leave in two days, but I want your shit packed by tomorrow afternoon; you're not to leave this house until you go to the airport. No friends or any of that crap." just like that, he left.

Pickles, pale with shock, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open, peered down and read, _Vestborg Vidaregåande Skule._

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After dinner Pickles went straight to his room. He fell down onto his bed and immediately took his cell phone out of his pocket. He didn't know what to do, but he did understand two things—one being that he had to begin packing for this stupid school, and another being that he had to tell someone about this. Without knowing who else to call, he punched in Bekker's number. One ring, then another and a surprised, "Yeah?" sounded out on the other end of the line.

"Dude, s'me."

"Okay, so?"

"I...uh..." the redhead swallowed and before he could have a chance of stopping himself, he began to openly sob. Bekker reacted to this with a mixture of fear and confusion.

"What's wrong? Are you crying? Oh God, man, what happened? Are you about to die or something?"

"I can't..." he sniffled and raced to silence this pitiful display of emotion. He removed the phone from his ear, buried it under a pillow, and wiped off his tearing eyes on his bedsheets. After blowing his nose and taking a deep breath, he dug out his phone and continued. "Dude, you won't believe this—they're sendin' me away."

Bekker wasn't surprised in the least. "Yeah, I know. We all do, everyone in Tomahawk."

Pickles frowned. "What? It gat around that fast? _I _just found out, so how do you-"

"Seth." was his simple response. "Seth called Geoff-" Geoff was, of course, Bekker's older brother, "-and then Geoff called Bree-"

Pickles became sidetracked by this information. "Wait, hold up—he's still goin' out with Bree? I thought he dumped her ass."

A pause then, "Nah, they're still together. Anyways, and Bree has a big mouth, so she called all her friends..." Bekker took a moment to think before completing, "C'mon, you know there isn't a such thing as privacy in Tomahawk."

"Yeah, I know." and he laid his head down on the cool, soft mattress and mumbled, "I don't know what I'm gonna do; a whole fuckin' summer in school? And it's in Europe..."

Bekker let out a gasp. _"Europe? _Your parents don't even wanna spend the money to buy you a fucking car, but they'll send you to Europe for the whole God damn summer? Shit..."

"Idiot, I don't wanna go! It's _school, _for fuck's sake." Pickles' sorrow and confusion melted into anger. "Fuck them, I just won't go. I'll go over to your place like you said earlier and-"

"No way, dude. Now that your parents are trying to send you to Europe, my folks think that you got a serious problem."

Pickles shrugged, though he knew Bekker couldn't actually see him do this. "Yeah, so what? Everyone's gat problems."

Bekker insisted, "No way, my parent's will never let you come over again. It's like they think you're a murderer or something."

"I'm about to murder my parents if they really think that they can send me away...I mean who the fuck does 'dat to their kid? Who the fu-" he was interrupted as the door to his bedroom flung open. His father glared at him from outside in the hall.

"Give me the phone." he instructed, holding out his hand. Pickles made a move to shake his head, but when his father raised a fist he abruptly hung up with Bekker and surrendered the phone. "Not good enough, boy," his father hissed. "Not good enough at _all."_

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Pickles prepared to leave home two days later with a black eye and an aching body. His father had a short temper and no restraint when it came to beating his youngest son; it took all the redhead's strength to just haul himself out of bed and into the shower that morning. He had spent the majority of the days before sleeping off the pain and sneaking some beer from his parent's fridge downstairs. Now, however, he was forced to pack what little clothes he had into a suitcase. Just before his parents pushed him out of the door he managed to get a hold of the house phone and call Bekker.

"Hey, Gunter, I'm about to leave." he didn't even know why he'd called the other boy, but something inside of him had just sort of told him that it's what he should do.

On the other end of the line a solemn, quietly sorrowful voice spoke. "You gonna call when you get there? Where is this fucking school, anyway?"

"Norway."

"Nor-where?"

"Nor—forget it. I guess I'll try to call if I can. I...uh..." he cleared his throat, took an awkward pause, and found himself at a loss for words. It was Gunther who spoke next.

"Me and Duncan went drinking yesterday, out in that field with the cows and stuff...he stole some of his dad's beer."

"Uh-huh." this didn't make Pickles feel better at all. "Duncan Hansen, that fag down the road?"

"Yeah, he's a fag, but really-"

"Then you two should get along great." Pickles said, smiling to himself.

There was a slight hiss of breath from the other end of the line then Bekker said in an undertone, "Shut up! I told you not to tell, I _told _you!"

"I didn't tell anyone," the redhead promised. "I swear, it's still a secret."

" 'Cause you know what my parents would do? Especially my dad if he found out..."

"I said I didn't tell nobody, now stap talkin' about it!" Pickles growled. He didn't need any more reminders of that day two summers ago when he'd found out that Gunther was queer. It still played over and over in his brain every time he hung around with the kid, so why did they ever have to bring it up? "Look," he said, trying to change the subject, "I just wanted to call you to tell you that I'm leavin' now, so-"

"I'll miss you, dude."

"Yeah," he sneered. Suddenly he felt disgusted with himself for ever having called Bekker at all. "right. Whatever."

"Yeah, whatever." _Sorry, _he meant to say. _Sorry I said I'll miss you. _

"Yep." Pickles sighed and glanced over to the front door where his father was waiting anxiously. Normally he'd get a few punches in the face for being so disobedient and not following his parents right out the door immediately, but the teenager knew that if he would be going out in public, there was nothing his father could do—not only did he bruise easier than most, but if he went out with yet another black eye, someone might notice. It was a carefully kept family secret that Pickles was hit around by his old man, so if one person at all found out...

"Hope your dad didn't fuck you up too bad last night when he found you on the phone."

"He hates you."

"He does?" Bekker inquired. "Why?"

Pickles grinned. "He can see thru you, dude. He says alla time what a fag you are. He-"

"Pickles!" his father called from over by the door.

The redhead glanced over at him and nodded. _Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. _"Look, Beck, I gatta go, alright? I'll find a way to call you, though. I'll find a way to-" just before he could complete his final goodbyes, his father had walked over, snatched the phone, and hung up.

He smiled wickedly at his son, slapped him scoldingly on the cheek, and said in a quiet, deadly voice, "Good sons do what their fathers tell them."

Pickles glared up at the man, his face red from the hit and embarrassment. "So what?"

"Get in the car."

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****A/N****

**No, my punishment has not been officially ended, but I don't care. This is a new story idea that I'm working on because the other fic I was writing got boring. I will finish it, so don't worry. This one and a few more may just come first. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this story and yes, I promise that Pickles will meet Toki soon. [teenage Pickles/Toki love is so cute!] And in case you were wondering, yes, Vestborg Vidaregåande Skule is a real school in Norway, and it's conveniently close to Lillehammer, Toki's hometown.** **Anyways, remember that reviews are appreciated.**

**PEACE & LOVE  
>[it's good to be back]<strong>


	2. Chapter 2::Killing Time

_Some will die in hot pursuit  
>In fiery auto crashes<br>Some will die in hot pursuit  
>While sifting through my ashes<br>Some will fall in love with life  
>And drink it from a fountain<br>That is pouring like an avalanche  
>Coming down the mountain<em>

_-Pepper, by the Butthole Surfers_

_**CHAPTER 2: KILLING TIME**_

The school was a big place, one that reminded Pickles of a prison. Then again, as he stepped into the building for the first time, he was quite sure that anywhere his parents could have sent him would be like a prison. Since his family hadn't flown to Norway with him, he was left to wander the halls aimlessly, searching for any kind of help. All around him there were signs in Norwegian, ones that hurt his brain to even look at. Finally he made it to the main office and got some help. The rules were simple, much like those of any other school.

No fighting, no cursing, no talking back to teachers, no bullying other kids, no sex, no kissing, no hugging, no touching. Three days out of the month there were times when family members or friends that weren't enrolled in the school could come down and visit for a few hours out of the day. There were a whole list of other, more specific rules that Pickles was provided with, but he didn't read them. He assumed naturally that he couldn't beat the shit out of anyone—though he would if he had to—and that he couldn't streak naked thru the campus; basic stuff that any kid his age should know. Other than that, he really didn't see any reason to pay attention to the rules. After that he was handed a schedule and told his room number. He was also told that he'd have a roommate, a boy who was, like himself, a troublemaker. Pickles just rolled his eyes at this, picked up his few bags, and let himself out of the office.

He walked all the way up flights and flights of stairs, got lost in the seemingly endless labyrinth of halls, and finally came to his room. He didn't even bother to knock before barging in, throwing his stuff down on the nearest bed, and going over to the window, where a half empty bottle of water was open. He drank from it then sat down, observing the room with something of disgust on his face. "Stupid, crappy-"

"Unnskyld meg?"

"Huh?" he glanced around the room and was surprised to see a kid staring at him with wide, pale blue eyes.

"Du sette din ting på min seng."

Pickles arched a brow and shrugged cluelessly. "Dunno what you mean, so either talk English or don't talk at all."

"Your stuff," the boy said, swallowing nervously. "it ams on my bed—my side of the room." he distractedly began playing with some of his long, caramel-colored hair. To the redhead he looked like Gunther, a total fag, and he didn't restrain himself from telling the kid this.

"Hey, listen, I'm sure 'dat you gat used to livin' up here by yourself, but I don't give a shit." he drank some more water and then tossed the empty bottle aside. The other teenager frowned.

"That was _my _water."

"Yeah, and you know what?" Pickles stood up, pushed the other boy back against the wall, and declared, "This is _my _room now, so if you don't like it, you can go sleep outside in all that damn snow!"  
>"I...I..." he seemed at a loss for words as Pickles backed away and went to lay down on the bed he'd claimed. "I'm ssorry, I didn't mean-"<p>

"Shut up."

"O-Okays." he glanced around the room awkwardly before moving to the other bed, the one that Pickles had chosen to leave vacant. With little hesitation he moved all of his belongings from the redhead's side of the room over to the other side. Once that was done he sat down on the floor and cleared his throat. "I'm-"

"Gonna shut up." Pickles completed for him. "You're gonna shut up and let me go to sleep, or I'll kick your ass."

"But I-"

"I don't care, now leave me the fuck alone!" and he threw the covers on top of himself, switched off the lamp, and rolled over to face the wall. The other kid just sat across the room looking dreadfully confused.

"I was tryings to do work before you came in." he said. When Pickles ignored him, he got up and went to turn the lamp back on. The redhead's eyes snapped open and he punched the other boy hard in the stomach. To his surprise the kid wasn't as flimsy as he looked; beneath his too-big sweatshirt he actually seemed to have a fair bit of hard muscle. Pickles almost hurt his hand punching him, which only served to make him even angrier. Will a growl of rage he got out of bed, ripped the lamp off of the nightstand, and went over to the window. He glared at the other teenager.

" 'Dis your lamp?"

He nodded. "Ja, my mom sent it for-"

"Good." he threw it out the open window and listened to it crash onto the concrete below. Once that was done he hauled himself back to bed, kicked off his socks and shoes, and tried to go to sleep. The other boy wouldn't let him do so, though.

"That was _my _lamp. My mombought it and-"

"So what? Have her go buy you another one." he paused and grinned to himself before adding slyly, "Maybe next time you'll leave the damn light aff while I'm trying to sleep."

"Buts I-"

"Shut up!"

"Sorry." his pale eyes flickered down to the floor and he sighed. "Why ams you here, anyways? My dads sent me here 'cause-"

"Dude, look," Pickles turned and gave him a deadly look. "I just had a really long flight and now 'dat I'm stuck in this shithole I'd like to sleep, so if you don't shut your mouth I'll throw you outta that window. Gat it?"

"Ja," he responded dryly. "gots it."

"Good." he covered his face with the sheets and closed his eyes.

There was a long moment of silence before the other kid dared to whisper, "It ams nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Toki."

"Hmm." was the redhead's response. Another long period of time elapsed before he said angrily, "I'm Pickles."

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Later that day Pickles was reading over the schedule that he'd been given with a look of utter confusion on his face. He looked up at Toki, who was quietly reading some book called, _The Cather in the Rye. _"Hey, fuckface, what does 'dis paper mean?"

"Hmm?" he looked up, put some of his hair behind his ears, and frowned. "Whats?"

"This-" he waved the paper in the air. "-what does it mean?"

"Lets me see, please." Toki got up, put his book down, and gently took the schedule from the other teenager. As he was reading it over, Pickles couldn't help but to get a closer look at him. Toki was a nice looking kid, had probably had many girlfriends. His complexion was fair, almost too much so, but it just came short of sickly, deathly pale. His hair, on the other hand, was just the right shade of the lightest, caramel-colored brown. His eyes shined as he read over the words, and they glowed with a kind of childish tolerance that Pickles hadn't seen in his own eyes since he himself was very, very young. The redhead was aware that this tolerance and curiosity about the world had been taken away from him at an early age by his brother's lies and his parent's harsh punishments. "I ams your schedule." he said obviously, handing the paper back to Pickles. The redhead was angered by this simple response, but also taken aback by just how young the other boy sounded. He couldn't have been older than sixteen at least. How stupid were these people to let him room with a sixteen-year-old kid when he himself was nineteen?

He snatched it back and spat, "You fuckin' idiot, I know 'dat it's a schedule, I just don't know where to..." he searched for the right words and came up with, "Y'know, get started. When do I gotta go to these damn classes anyway?"

"You ams new here, so probably tomorrow. They'll lets you slide for the rest of the day." Toki responded, making his way back over to his bed. He laid down quietly and waited for another question to answer.

"Oh." Pickles' face contorted in thought as he put the schedule on his night stand. "Well why ain't you in class, then? Isn't that where everyone else is?"

"They kicks me out today." he explained, picking up his copy of _The Cather in the Rye. _Next to him he had an open notebook and a pen. After another moment of reading he picked up the pen and scribbled something down in the notebook. Pickles noticed this, but didn't care much. He still had questions that needed answering.

"Why'd they kick you out?"

Toki gave a shrug to this and mumbled almost shyly, "I don'ts know, they just don't like me over here—the teachers and stuff."

"Why nat?"

" 'Cause they just don'ts."

"Huh." he sat up in his bed and crossed his legs. After a moment of thought he asked his next question. "D'ya think that the teachers will like me?"

The boy smiled and didn't hesitate to shake his head. "No, I don'ts."

Pickles seemed almost invigorated by this thought. So, this place wouldn't be that much different from his home? He could handle that. He could—he gave out a gasp as he remembered the promise that he'd made to Gunther to call him. "Hey, you gat a cell phone?" he inquired, slipping out of bed. Toki shook his head.

"Nopes, sorry."

"Then where can I make a call?"

"There ams public phones downstairs. It only costs-"

"I ain't gat no money, dumbass!" Pickles interrupted. "I need to borrow a phone _now._ D'ya know if anyone would let me borrow theirs?"

Toki shook his head and continued reading. "Nope."

"Fuck!" he hurried out of the room and began opening up the doors of the other rooms and raiding them. In the third one he finally managed to get his hands on a cracked, old cell phone. He figured that it would have to do, and quickly he ran back to his room and shut the door. "Don't tell nobody about 'dat, or I'll kill you."

But the other boy wasn't listening. He was deep into his book. This angered Pickles, so he went over to where the notebook and pen lay, snatched them both up, and flung them out the window. Toki sighed and tried not to act too annoyed as he got up and put on his boots. "Thanks, nows I haves to go gets that."

Pickles turned to him, cracking his knuckles. "What, you think you can be a smartass now? I swear to Gad, I'll fuckin' kick you ass..."

"I'm sure you wills." he retorted, going out of the room and slamming the door behind him. The redhead had half a mind to follow him and beat him up a little, but he decided that it could wait.

Now he just went over to a corner and dialed in Gunther's number. It was a long-distance call, but he didn't care. It was someone else's phone, after all. In the time span of about five minutes he was talking and joking with Gunther again, and for a moment everything felt like it used to be. That was until Toki came sulking back into the room, kicked off his boots, and began reading again. In an obvious attempt to distract the Norwegian, Pickles began talking even louder.

"Who just came in?" Bekker asked enthusiastically.

He rolled his eyes and responded with an annoyed, "Just my stupid fuckin' roommate. He's a queer, I swear to Gad..."

"Queer? Is he cute?"

Pickles sneered in disgust at this question and yelled into the phone, "You Gad damn fag, don't _ever _ask me nothin' like that again or I'll rip your fuckin' throat out!"

"Whatever." _Sorry._

There was a moment of silence before Pickles continued. "They told me today 'dat a few times a month other people could come down to the school and hang out for a few hours. You should come."

Gunther laughed madly. "Dude, we're talkin' about _Norway, _here! It isn't like you're down the street any more."

"What about that kid you're goin' out with, how's 'dat been goin'?"

"Good, I guess. If you really wanna know, last night we-"

"It's Duncan, right?" Pickles inquired. "Duncan parents-are-filthy-fuckin'-rich-Hansen? Get him to pay for a couple of plane tickets and just-"

"I can't ask him to do that! I swear, sometimes it's like you're an idiot." Bekker let out an almost sad sigh before saying, "Besides, we'd only be able to be down there for a few hours, then we'd have to fly back here—it'd never work."

"But I'm goin' insane here!" the redhead exclaimed, making Toki jump and look his way. He sensed the other boy's pale gaze on him, but didn't care. He said into the phone, "Everything's in a different language, the girls are all ugly—" this was just an assumption considering the fact that he'd never actually gotten around to meeting a girl there yet, "-I don't know anyone here, I'm the only one with red hair—" this was true, actually, "-and nobody here has any weed or beer or _anything. _Gunter, man, I'm dying out here." he didn't say 'please' or anything, because that was too pathetic even for him. He never begged for anything, _never. _

However what he had said was enough to get Bekker to hesitantly mutter, "Dude, I'm really sorry, but-"

"I hope you choke on Duncan Hansen's cock!" Pickles spat hatefully.

"Okay, alright, I'll try to talk him into it, but-"

"You'd better."

"But I don't know why the fuck I'd wanna fly all the way to Norway just to put up with your bullshit."

There was a long moment of silence before Pickles said, "Yeah, right. Bye." and he hung up, still shocked with Bekker's words. Bullshit?_ Fuck that, _he thought as he threw the phone onto his nightstand and shook his head. "Fuck Beck, fuck him. I don't give him no bullshit, I'm-"

"Who ams Duncan Hansen?" Toki asked from over on his bed. The look that Pickles gave him was enough to make him turn his full attention back to his book and shut his mouth.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

The rest of the day dragged by very slowly. Since Pickles wasn't that familiar with the campus yet all he could do was sit in the small dorm and sleep. Though sleep was good as the day grew shorter he needed something else to occupy his time with. After stretching and waking up from what had to have been his twentieth nap that day, he turned his attention to Toki and said offhandedly, "Y'know, I think 'dat I'm just about ready to kick your ass."

Toki said nothing. He'd been reading in darkness all day, and now he was taking a rare break and trying to listen to some music. When the other boy spoke to him, he took out his earphones and arched a brow. "Huh?"

"I said that I'm gonna kick your a-" his attention was distracted as his stomach let out a loud, unyielding growl. Pickles frowned with the sudden realization that he was starving. "Go get me some food, prick." and he laid back down on his bed and yawned.

Toki sat up and shook his head. "Nos, no way. I'm not going down to the dining hall for you." and he lowered his head and mumbled more to himself than anyone else, "I hates even going there when _I'm_ hungry."

"Well I don't give a shit what you do and don't like doin'!" Pickles howled, throwing one of his pillows over at the Norwegian. It hit him square in the head. Toki simply pushed the pillow away, got up, and put on his boots.

He made his way out the door mumbling to himself, _"Pokker rasshøl..."_

About half an hour later he entered the room holding a paper bag. Angrily he threw it over to Pickles and spat, _"Her er din mat."_

"Thanks, fucker." Pickles said with false gratitude. "What took you so damn long?" When the boy didn't answer, only sulked back over to his side of the room, the redhead let out an angry growl. "Hey, motherfucker, you'd better-"

"Please?" Toki cried, his face red as he picked up his book and tried to resume reading. Pickles grinned at this sudden break in the other boy's coolness.

"Will I please what?"

"Just...please." he squeaked timidly, "Please leaves me alone?"

He snorted at this and peered into the bag of food. What he saw made him gag. "What the _fuck _is this shit? Is this what you idiots call food?" he threw the bag over to Toki and demanded, "Where's the stupid hot dogs or burgers or-"

"They didn't haves any!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "This ams not America, stupids! They have what they have and so I waited in line for fifteen minutes and gots you food! What else do you wants now?"

Pickles said thru gritted teeth, "Don't you dare yell at me, you prick. I'll fuckin' _kill _you."

Toki's face reddened even more. He tried to return his attention to his book, but before he could the other teenager had snatched it from his hands and was ripping out handfuls of pages. To Pickles' surprise Toki didn't rebel against this; he sat there on his bed, his innocent eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room, observing what was happening to his book with curiosity. This only made Pickles angrier. He threw _The Catcher in the Rye _aside and looked around for anything else that he could take his anger out on. Finding nothing, he decided that the best way to finally assert his power was to just go ahead and beat the shit out of Toki.

"Look," he said, his hands balling into fists. "I just came in today; I'm fuckin' tired, I hate it here, and all I want is a little bit of food. What did you get me? A bagful of shit."

Toki obviously sensed the danger, but he didn't care. He just shrugged and said simply,_ "I _woulds have eaten it." Pickles finally let out his anger and punched the other boy hard in the face. Toki sat there on his bed, his lip split and bleeding, his eyes tearing up, but with a look of almost inhuman calmness on his face. He let the blood trickle down his chin and onto his bedsheets. Unable to restrain himself, he said what he'd wanted to say since he'd met the redhead. "Why do you talks so funny, with that stupid accent? Where ams you from, anyway?"

"I'll _kill _you," Pickles hissed murderously. "I'll-"

"Gos ahead." Toki challenged. When the other boy's anger gave way to slight confusion, he said more clearly with a small, almost playful smile on his face, "Kills me. I wouldn't mind."

"Fine," Pickles said. "I will."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

****A/N****

**Yep, it's finally summer vacation. Yay! It should also be noted that pretty much one year ago—if memory serves correctly—I saw my first full episode of Metalocalypse and published my first ****Pickles/Toki slash. Happy times. ^_^ Please review. I'd appreciate it. Also, thanks for reading. Much more to come.**

**PEACE & LOVE**


	3. Chapter 3::Changes

_**CHAPTER 3: CHANGES**_

Toki lay on his bed with his eyes tightly shut. He was sleeping soundly, and it was only eight o'clock at night. Pickles smiled at this stupid early bedtime. The Norwegian was a total child, that much was true. He didn't know how to fight, he'd just sat there and taken what the redhead had given him with a look of annoyingly superior—no, that wasn't the right word, because there truly was nothing superior about Toki. It was more like an annoying acceptance he had in him. He took his licks and then drug himself into the dorm bathroom to clean himself up. Yes, their room had a bathroom. Pickles knew that he was lucky because of this, but didn't really care much. He'd never taken showers every day to begin with, and usually his breath smelled so much of either booze or smoke that brushing his teeth wasn't an issue.

Now he just laid peacefully on his bed, staring at the cell phone he'd stolen earlier that day. After a few seconds of this he looked back over to Toki. The Norwegian looked exceedingly peaceful sleeping like that, with his mouth closed and curled up in an innocent half-smile and his long hair in a kind of loose ponytail. Some light, almost golden strands had come undone and were covering his face, spread on his pillow. Occasionally his lips moved in his sleep and he would let out a little sigh. Pickles wondered what he could be dreaming about—sex? He himself always dreamed of sex with some girl or another. His mind flashed back to Jen. He missed her, but not her constant accusations.

No, he'd never cheated on her until she'd pestered him so much about it. Every time he saw her she'd spit in his face or slap him and yell and yell for hours on end without giving him a chance to talk. Pickles cringed at this memory. Had Toki ever had a girlfriend? A sudden, odd thought came to the redhead's mind; had the kid ever even had sex? He distractedly glanced back over at the Norwegian. He could tell a virgin a mile off.

Yes, the answer was undoubtable even by the way the kid slept. He was curled up in a tight ball, and though his face looked peaceful it seemed to be lacking something, something vital...Pickles knew that people changed after they fucked. He had witnessed the change in himself. After he'd lost it he also abandoned much of his previous insecurities; he didn't mind being naked in front of other people anymore. He grinned as he remembered a time when he'd had to jump out of the shower and run into the kitchen to answer the phone. Seth had just gotten home and when he saw his naked brother standing there, his eyes grew wide and he went right out the door again.

"Huh." Pickles chuckled to himself in the dark, rolled over in his bed, and shut his eyes. Across the room he heard Toki let out a loud snore and whisper something in his sleep.

"Love you..."

"Huh?" he sat up, looked over to where the other boy was placidly sleeping.

Toki repeated his words in the form of a wistful sigh. "Loves you..."

"Uh..." Pickles turned red. Was he dreaming about a girl after all? Not likely. He didn't have _that _look on his face. His face was full of a quiet affection, one that was almost painful. He was so damn tranquil that the redhead had no choice but to lay back down slowly and close his eyes. That night as he went to sleep all he could hear was a series of meek proclamations of love coming from Toki's mouth.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

There was a sharp, throbbing pain that erupted in Toki's shoulder; that's what woke him up the next morning. When he opened his eyes and dared to look around, he was thrown aback by the sudden light that was illuminating the room. Pickles loomed above him, shirtless and awake, holding a wrinkled shirt and a pair of tattered, stained jeans. "Hey, fucker, you happy? You spend the whole Gad damn night talkin' and I couldn't get to sleep—now I'm gonna get in the shower." he turned, walked towards the bathroom, but stopped. "Hey, dildo, when do classes start?"

Toki rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stifled a yawn. "In-" he glanced over at a digital clock and sighed. It was four in the morning. "-three hours."

"Huh. Cool. Thanks, asshole." and he retreated into the bathroom and slammed the door. Toki just laid back down in his bed and listened to the water run in the bathroom. He prayed that the redhead wouldn't use up all of the hot water or that he wouldn't take too long. He probably would, just out of spite. Toki's eyes teared up as he thought of this. Pickles clearly hated him, but why? Everyone hated him—his teachers, the other students, but why did his roommate detest him so much? He didn't want to think about it, so he laid his head back down on his pillow and pulled the sheets up to his chin.

He thought about many things in the serene darkness of night; that's why Toki honestly hated the night and the feelings it brought. He thought back to his father, to his mother, to the students who gave him hell every day, who made him wish he was dead. No, death was too good for him. Toki didn't think he deserved to die. His father said he'd die and rot in Hell, but maybe even that was too good for him. He hated himself, and Pickles didn't make him feel better about his situation at all. Toki's room used to be a sanctuary for him, a place to get away from the horrible rest of the world and be by himself, but now...

Now he didn't know what to do.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Pickles smiled secretly to himself as he stepped out of the hot, steaming shower and onto the cool tile of the floor. He'd used up all the hot water, he knew. He'd taken more than two hours in the bathroom and now Toki was probably pissing himself and crying. He laughed at this thought as he pulled on his jeans and yawned. Damn, he was tired. He _never _woke up this early, not even when his dad had made him do community service with other juvenile delinquents.

Truthfully, Pickles hated showers just because of the simple fact that he hated water. He was almost even afraid of it, especially after his parents had forced him to go live with his crazy aunt for a summer and she had baptized him. 'Your soul is clean, purified; you may now walk with the Lord,' she'd said, crying tears of ecstatic joy at her nephew's newfound spirituality. Pickles had just marched out of the river, wrung out his pants, and ran away from her home that night. Now he sat on the edge of the tub and sighed. A gentle, timid knock came from the door.

"Please lets me take a shower. Class ams about to start, and-"

"I'm hungry again." Pickles commented, rising to his bare feet and opening the bathroom door. The Norwegian stood on the other side looking pale and exhausted. "Take a shower then get me some food."

"Buts I-"

"Thank you." he completed, shoving Toki into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. About ten minutes later the kid came out of the steamy bathroom combing his hair madly. Pickles watched him with a look of contempt on his face. "Why don't you just get it cut?" he asked Toki. "You tryin' to be a big rebel or somethin'?"

"Nos." he answered, slipping on his boots.

"Then why-"

"I hates it short." was his short, edgy response. Pickles rolled his eyes and got up. He and the Norwegian made their way silently down the many flights of stairs that lead to the dining hall. Toki seemed to grow more and more sullen with each step they took until finally, when they reached the massive hall, he was dragging his feet, letting his hair cover his pale face, and letting out loud, almost hateful sighs.

"What the fuck is wrang with you?" Pickles snapped, irritated by the other teenager's hesitation. "I thought you were gonna tell me where to get food."

"I ams, I just..."

"What?"

"I hates this place." he finally managed to say as they wandered over to the shortest food line and waited. Pickles knew that he should leave Toki well enough alone, but he didn't. The other boy's resentment of this school only peaked his curiosity on the matter, and in a moment he was hovering over Toki's shoulder whispering question after antagonizing question into his ear.

"Why do you hate it here so much, huh? Dosen't your dad make enough money to send you to some fancy, private school?" naturally he assumed that Toki was rich, mostly just because he held an air of ignorance towards the world. He was innocent, untainted, something only a rich little bitch could be. Pickles _hated _rich kids. Toki's response to this question, however, completely threw him off.

He shook his head, buried his hands down deep in the pockets of his jacket, and mumbled dejectedly, "I No, I'm pretty poor, actuallys."

"Oh, then-"

A group of three other teenagers walked past them, glanced at Toki, and began whispering amongst themselves in Norwegian. In a moment they were all snickering and one boldly pushed past Toki and grinned. Pickles arched a brow at this and scoffed. "What the fuck's wrang with-"

"Everyone here ams like that." Toki muttered, glaring down at the floor. "I'm poor, reallys poor, and my parents..."

"Forget it," the redhead said angrily. "I didn't ask for you whole damn life story." they both grew silent and waited. The line grew shorter and shorter until finally they were able to get their food. Once that was done, Toki made for the exit, but Pickles caught him and demanded, "What the fuck is wrang with you? _This _is why nobody likes you, 'dis is why you don't have any friends!"

Toki's face reddened with embarrassment as he explained, "I don't ever eats in here. Nobody likes me."

"Because you're a fuckin' anti-social prick! Gad, you're an idiot. C'mon." the redhead yanked Toki's sleeve in the direction of an empty table. The Norwegian first hesitated, glanced around, then followed him, eager to no longer be standing in the middle of the room. Pickles glared at Toki as he sat down. "Seriously, do you have some kinda mental prablem? Why the fuck don't you ever wanna be around people?"

It took a moment for him to answer. Finally he said, "I...I guess I just don't likes people." and he dug into his food hungrily, eating in big mouthfuls as though he feared that at any moment the tray of food might be taken away. Pickles watched him with a look of pure disgust on his face before peering down at his on tray. He let out a sound of protest and pushed the food away.

"What the fuck is this shit? Where's the normal stuff?"

Toki swallowed and shrugged. He continued eating. "I don't knows what you mean. This _ams _normal stuff."

"No it's nat! I want eggs and bacon and coffee and—wait, you people don't gat hamburgers or hat dogs or bacon and eggs?" he threw down his fork and let his head fall into his hands. "What the hell kinda place is this?"

"This ams Norway." Toki observed as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "And here we sometimes eats other stuff for breakfast. Look-" he nudged the tray of food back towards Pickles and said gently, "-just trys it. It ams not so-"

"Fuck aff! Did I ask you to speak, you fuckin' idiot?" he yelled. He didn't realize it, but everyone in the dining hall was now staring at him and snickering. Pickles just threw his tray of food over towards Toki and crossed his arms moodily over his chest. They sat in silence as Toki ate his breakfast. Just before the Norwegian had taken his last bite of food, a group of kids came up to their table. They stared at Pickles oddly. He tried to ignore this but found out he couldn't. Finally he demanded angrily, "What the fuck do you idiots want?"

One of them just smiled to himself and then turned his attention to Toki. _"Wartooth, hvem er han og hvorfor gjør han ser så rart?"_

"_Han er min romkamerat." _Toki responded shyly, looking at the ground. The kid sneered down at him.

"_Hvorfor han se ut som?"_

There was a slight hesitation in the other teenager's voice before he inquired, _"Hva mener du?"_

"What?" Pickles blurted. "What'd you just say?"

The boy with the sneer on his face grinned at the redhead and asked in Norwegian, _"Hvorfor er håret ditt sånn-hvorfor er det oransje?"_

He just gave the kid a puzzled look. "Huh? What does 'dat-"

"Leave him alone." Toki broke in, glaring at the boy. "He ams not weird, sos just-"

The boy and his whole group of friend's laughed at this outburst. The kid who had asked all the questions simply smiled condescendingly down at Toki and said in a venomous hiss, "_Du bør holde kjeft før jeg slå dritten ut av deg på nytt."_

Toki nodded, bit his lower lip meekly, and then went to get up. He exited the dining hall without another word. Pickles was left to just sit there glaring at the group of kids. "Alright asshole, what the fuck did you say to him?"

"I said that he should mind his own business." the boy said. Pickles, surprised by the Norwegian's good, clear English, just continued to sit there looking utterly amazed.

"You know English?"

"Yes," he said, motioning to his friends. "we all do."

"Then why d'you-"

"What's wrong with you?" the Norwegian boy asked. His friends began rapidly talking in their native language, making it impossible for Pickles to understand them.

"I...what?" the redhead wasn't quite sure how to respond to this odd question. The Norwegian boy, sensing his confusion, smiled deviously.

"What the hell's wrong with you? Why is your hair orange and what's those things on your face?"

"F-Freckles." he responded dumbly. This was a complete, foreign mystery to him until he looked around at the boy and his friends and saw the problem. Nearly everyone in the dining hall had brown or blonde hair, granted they were not all completelyalike. Still, to Pickles they seemed to be clones, and it struck him then just how badly he must stick out. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time—humiliation. Not only that, but he felt terrified all of the sudden. He was totally alone in this new place, totally different from everyone else. His face paled as he rose to his feet and pushed past the boy and his group of friends. Without knowing what else to do or where else to go, he abandoned all previous feelings of superiority and went to track down Toki.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

"Fuck 'dis shit!" Pickles exclaimed as he found the Norwegian. He was sitting on a freezing bench outside reading his book. The redhead walked up to him, kicked some snow, and fumed, "Those fuckin' dildos! Those fuckin', fuckin'...who the hell do they think they are? _Nobody _talks to me like 'dat, nobo—"

"Whats did they say to you?" the other teenager inquired calmly as he turned a page in his book.

"They just fuckin' had the nerve to come up and—why the hell am I the only one at this school with orange hair? Huh? Why am I the only one with green eyes, the only one with freckles; why-"

"You worry toos much about what those idiots thinks." Toki commented, letting out a breath of warm vapor into the frigid air. Pickles narrowed his eyes at the boy.

"_Worry? _Worry, 'dat's what you think I'm doin'? Hell no I'm nat worrin', I'm just-"

"You don't feels like you belong here at alls, huh?" the Norwegian asked, shifting his gaze up from his book to the redhead's face. His pale eyes shined with a kind of miraculous, complete understanding as he said, "You feel like you ams not even a real part of this place, like the one piece that don'ts belong, right?"

"No, I-"

"You don't think that you shoulds be here, huh?"

Pickles stopped his fuming. In an odd sort of way, Toki's voice, his very smart, consoling words calmed him and made him lose all of his previous rage. He sat down on the bench next to the Norwegian and let his green eyes travel across the immense stretch of snowy yard before them. There was nobody else out now, no other students to ruin this moment; all of the other benches were vacant, covered in a thick layer of white snow. "We..." he struggled to find the right thing to say. "We ain't gat all this in Wiscansin."

"All this whats? Snow?"

He shook his head. "Nah, we gat some snow. What I'm talkin' about is how we don't have all of this bullshit. Back home nobody fucks with me, 'cause they know I can beat their fuckin' asses...I'm nat sure if I could've beaten that guy's ass..."

"Huh." Toki mumbled as he laid his book down on the bench. He was inviting the other teenager to continue or become silenced, whichever he felt the need to do. Toki's air was neither encouraging nor dissuading, so Pickles took advantage of this and punched him hard in the shoulder. The Norwegian immediately lost his tone of quiet understanding and let out an annoyed hiss of pain as he jumped to his feet and gripped his shoulder. "Fucks you! I tries to be nice and-"

"I never _asked _you to be nice. Besides," Pickles took a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. Just before lighting up he said slyly, "you were soundin' like a fag anyways."

"You ams a real asshole, you knows that?"

"I don't really care that much about what a fucking queer like you thinks of me." he retorted, sticking the cigarette between his lips. Without knowing what else to do, Toki let out one more howl of frustration and stormed away. "Wait!" Pickles called, letting out a breath of smoky air. "When do classes start again?"

"Half an hour, idiots!"

"I'm gonna beat your ass for 'dat!" he howled, smoking his cigarette. Pickles sat there for another five minutes or so before noticing the book that Toki had left. He picked it up and read the title to himself. _The Catcher in the Rye. _With a scoff he opened it up to where the Norwegian's bookmark was and began to read.

"_...but it wasn't that he was just the most intelligent member in the family. He was also the nicest, in lots of ways. He never got mad at anybody. People with red hair are supposed to get mad very easily, but Allie never did, and he had very red hair. I'll tell you what kind of red hair he had..."_

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Class was the same as it had been back in Tomahawk—boring, senseless, and utterly useless. The teacher was forced to talk in English because Pickles was there, yet whenever one of her treasured students would slip and speak in their native tongue, she would say nothing about it. It came to a point where Pickles could do nothing to keep up or understand, so he just sat in his desk in the back corner of the room, cracked open Toki's book, and tried to read. After a while the teacher called on him. "Pickles? Pickles, are you paying attention?"

"Huh?" he raised his head and frowned.

Everyone was staring at him, and to his ignorance one of the kids said in deliberately loud English, "Look at him, he looks so weird..."

Another Norwegian, a cute, perky girl with large breasts, said aloud, "His _hair..._it's like something from the Devil, it's so red..."

Pickles turned almost as crimson as his hair then, and swallowed. He turned his attention back to the teacher and tried to ignore the jests of the other students in the room. "I don't understand a word you're sayin'."

The teacher just heaved an irritated sigh and snapped, "If you don't plan on learning then you may as well get out of my classroom."

"But I-"

"Please!" she insisted, slamming her lesson book down on her desk. "Stop this arguing! Goodness, your parents said that you were intolerable, but I'd no idea that-"

Pickles lost it. He threw his book to the side and jumped up. All the kids sitting around him instinctively jumped back in their seats as Pickles exclaimed, "I ain't no prablem and I'm nat _intolerable! _This fuckin' place is _intolerable! _You-" his voice caught in his throat because he was yelling so loud, and when he could manage to speak again his words came out as a high-pitched crackling, "You're intolerable! Fuck you! Fuck this place, these people...what, you think I'm weird, you think I'm a fuckin' freak?" he turned to the girl who had said his hair reminded her of something only the Devil could create. "Bitch, fuck you! Fuck-"

"Silence!" the teacher demanded, slamming her hands down on her desk. Every student in the room was staring from her to Pickles with wide, fearful eyes. The teacher stood up and pointed to the redhead. "You—go. Out of here now!"

"Fine, I'll go. I'll-"

"Now!"

"I'm goin'!" Pickles screamed right back. He picked up his book sack, jammed his pages of notes in there, and then went to retrieve Toki's book. As he made his way out of the room, he felt something hit his back; he turned, saw a ball of paper lying on the ground, and heard the whole class laughing at him. "Fuck this _shit!" _he hissed to himself as he stormed out of the room. As he slammed the door, he could still hear all of those other students laughing at him. It echoed in his head; he'd never forget it for as long as he lived.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Pickles didn't know what to do. He certainly couldn't live with this day after day—he'd blow his fucking brains out. He needed to think, to get away from this place completely. Without knowing where else to go, he managed to find a bathroom and went inside. "Fuckin' pricks..." he whispered to himself, digging a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. "Fuckin' little bitch..." he was thinking back to that girl who'd called him the Devil. To think that when he'd first walked into that classroom he'd thought that she was cute. He would've fucked her before that—hell, he was so God damn lonely that he'd probably still fuck the little bitch if he could.

"Shit!" he cried, letting out a dry sob. In an instant he was hunched over a sink glaring down at the drain, trying to hold back tears. _Everyone _laughed at him, _everyone _always laughed at him...

How could he possibly manage to live here for the whole summer—maybe longer if his father wasn't gracious. He couldn't, he'd kill himself, he'd shoot everyone in the place then shoot himself. He'd-

"Uh...Pickle, what ams you doing in here?"

"Huh?" he whirled around and wiped his nose. He knew his eyes must be shining with tears—his vision was clouded with them—but he didn't care. Toki stood there in the door of an open stall, his pale eyes wide with concern. "What?" Pickles snapped, ignoring the stuffed-up, pitiful sound of his voice, " 'Dis your bathroom? Huh? You gonna kick me out?"

"N-Nos, I-"

"What the hell are you doin' in here, anyway?" he asked, sniffling again. "Get kicked outta class, too?"

"I..." Toki just shrugged and picked up his book sack—it was next to the sink that Pickles was leaning heavily against. "Maybes I did. What do you care?"

"I don't!"

"Okays, then I guess I'll just lea-"

"How lang have you been stayin' here?" Pickles asked, wiping his eyes, trying to contain his tears. "How long have you been puttin' up with this bullshit? 'Cuase I can't do it, I really can't. I'll fuckin' kill someone..."

"You just haves to get used to it, I guess." Toki gave him a little encouraging smile then made his way over to the door. Pickles caught him by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him back. For an instant, as his green eyes met the Norwegian's pure, virginal blue ones, he felt himself blush. He didn't know why, but there was something inside of him then that was triggered, a kind of self-loathing, guilty feeling. Guilt? Pickles never felt that, not towards anyone. What did he have to feel guilty about?

"Four years if you really wants to know." Toki said coolly, pulling out of Pickles' grasp. "And my dads says that if I don't shapes up after this year, then he'll..." and his voice trailed off. He made to leave again, but like before Pickles caught him and held him there.

"What'll he do to you?" Toki looked down and for one crucial moment the redhead sensed some kind of horror in his silence. He almost felt scared for the other boy, but he didn't let this show. Instead he whispered to himself, "Sorry...I'm sorry?"

"You ams what?"

"Nothing! I just...leave me the hell alone." he released the Norwegian, pushed him towards the door. He repeated emotionlessly, "Leave me alone, 'cause that's what everyone else does."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Pickles was kicked out and mocked in all of his other classes. His life was now like a cruel nightmare of everything he'd ever feared before in his life, and he couldn't escape it. The school itself was an endless labyrinth with no hope of escape—that day it took him hours just to locate his room. Once he did he threw his stuff down and turned to face Toki, who was still reading his book. The Norwegian seemed to know what was coming even before it was there, because just before Pickles managed to hit him he had thrown his book to the side and covered his stomach.

It was an odd thing; Toki didn't mind getting hit in his face, spitting up blood, or having blackened eyes, but he hated to get hit in the stomach. Knowing this, Pickles aimed for this spot in particular. It wasn't as though Toki was a hard opponent to beat. He just laid there no matter what, and even though he got angry, he never hit back. That night, as Pickles lowered his fist onto the Norwegian's cheek, there was an enraged exclamation of, "You fuckings little _bitch!"_

"I hate you!" Was all Pickles could think to say to this as he beat away at the other teenager mercilessly. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you..." he didn't realize it, but he was crying now. Toki saw this and tried to get up. He gripped the edge of his bed and hauled himself to his feet.

"You ams crying again." he observed, his voice slurring as blood and spit ran in long trails from his mouth. Pickles let out an enraged sob and hit him again in the ribs, laughing brokenly when Toki doubled over in pain. "You bitch, that ams a sucker punch."

"I'm not the bitch," he responded, pulling on a handful of Toki's hair, forcing the other teenager's head back. He punched him hard in the mouth then wiped the blood from his knuckles off on his pants. "you're the bitch." And he watched with glee in his eyes as the Norwegian let out a choked gasp and fell onto the ground limply. He didn't know why, but he loved to see him like that, crying just like he was, blood dripping and making little pools around him...

Suddenly that old guilty feeling entered him and struck down all of these emotions. Pickles was left to stand there above Toki, his heart aching, his brain confused and exhausted. He was tired of thinking, tired of moving. He needed a shower. He retreated into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the hot water. He undressed and stared at himself in the mirror. He really was disgusting, he thought. Maybe he was something only the Devil could make, just like that sexy little bitch had said...

On his chest, just below his ribs, there was a blackening bruise that was appearing on his flat stomach. He frowned, traced it to make sure it was real. His freckled skin told no lies. Toki had actually hit back, and he had hit back hard. Pickles shook his head slowly, turned on the water, and climbed into the shower. It was then that he allowed himself to cry. He hadn't cried in years for fear of personal humiliation, but now he was doing it heedlessly.

_'Crying doesn't help, son,' _his father had always told him after beating him. _'It only proves that you deserve it, that you're weak and you need to be toughened up...'_

Pickles' strength failed him and he fell to his knees in the shower, watched Toki's blood wash from his quaking, thin frame down the drain. There came a distant knock on the door and his roommate's voice. "Pickle, ams you okay in there?" He said nothing. He didn't have the courage or the energy to say anything, so he just sat there and sobbed for the next hour or so.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

****A/N****

**In this chapter I tried to get the idea of Pickles just being a selfish dick out of your heads. I know that he still is somewhat of a selfish dick, but perhaps now you might understand **_**why **_**he's like that—people aren't assholes for no reason. There's always a reason, believe it or not. Anyways, yeah, Toki did get beat up again. Sorry about that. Guess it just doesn't seem like Pickles and Toki will ever get along, much less love each other...**

**^_^ No, I haven't been updating as much as I would've liked. This is because my sister and me only have one week to hang out—the rest of this week—before she has to go back to college for summer classes. And yes, I have read _The Catcher in the Rye _before and it's one of my favorite books. I know you might think it's boring and that's too bad. I'm still gonna quote it. I'll be updating much more soon. Remember that reviews are appreciated. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed already. **

**PEACE & LOVE  
>[all Norwegian can be translated by Bing Translator]<strong>


	4. Chapter 4::Apologies

_**CHAPTER 4: APOLOGIES **_

He laid there staring up at the ceiling, his green eyes devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Waiting...waiting...waiting...

He was dead, he had been thru enough already, and it was only the second day of this torture. That morning seemed like a nightmare as he waited. Sleep hadn't found him that night, it had evaded his grasp and left him too tired to even move. His body ached and occasionally he would run his fingers up under his shirt, feel bare skin, find the place where the bruise Toki had given him was located. Still, as the room changed from midnight to an early morning gray, he waited. He listened to the steady, unwavering breathing of Toki in his sleep.

He laid there waiting, waiting, watching the other teenager sleep, envying, hating, and sympathizing with him.

He remembered that steady, tender gaze that Toki had, the subtle manner in which he knelt before other people, totally surrendered his power and pride. He smiled and waited. He waited until—there it was. The alarm clock went off and Toki sat up, scratched his head, and stretched. He looked over and saw that Pickles was lying on his bed, protected from the chilliness of the room by mountains of blankets. "Hey." he said cautiously, remembering the beating he'd taken last night. The redhead sat up and nodded to him.

"Yeah."

He switched off the alarm clock and yawned. "Do you wants the first shower?"

"Nah," Pickles shook his head numbly. "you take it"

He didn't say this out of kindness or because he regretted his actions of the night before, only because he didn't feel like taking a shower that morning. He didn't feel like moving at all, so he laid back down and closed his eyes as Toki got up and hauled himself into the small bathroom. He didn't know why, but he waited some more until the Norwegian came out of the bathroom; only then did he rise from his warm blankets, throw on his shoes and jacket, and walk over to the door.

"I'm goin' get some food." he said, swallowing. He didn't meet Toki's gaze as he went out the door, but nonetheless the kid followed him.

"Ams you going to class tod-"

"Don't push it." he warned, rubbing his burning eyes. He knew that they were probably red, irritated, and bloodshot, but he didn't care. He just lit himself a cigarette and had a smoke before going into the dining hall to get breakfast. As the two outcasts took their seats at the empty table, Pickles cleared his throat and said dully, "I gat your book, by the way. You forgot it yesterday after you were done callin' me an asshole."

"Oh." Toki turned red and nodded. "Ja, rights."

"You want it back?"

"Ja, I woulds." he sounded uneasy, as if he were afraid that by indicating his desire for the object Pickles would keep it from him.

"Oh, that sucks." the redhead mumbled before wiping his nose on his jacket sleeve and stabbing at his food with a fork. " 'cause, y'know, s'pretty good, I guess." and he peered up and met Toki's gaze before adding quickly, "Nat that I read much—I actually hate reading, but it's just a good book."

"Ja, it ams." he lapsed into a fearful silence and then ate his breakfast. Pickles watched him and let his head rest on his hand. He felt mildly guilty for beating the Norwegian up, and he tried to push this feeling aside.

Finally he lost his sickening battle with guilt and said in a hushed tone, "I...I'm sorry."

Toki looked up and laid down his fork slowly, as if he was too astonished to believe what he'd heard. "You ams what?"

"Sorry," Pickles repeated, looking away and trying to hide the guilty look on his face. "I'm just...I'm so fuckin' sorry that you have to put up with me."

The Norwegian chuckled at this. "Puts up with you? What ams you mean?"

He struggled to find the right words. "I...y'know, I've just never really had to try before...I'm so used to just beating the shit outta people and tellin' them what to do, but this is different." he let out a tired sigh and admitted, "Everything's different; I'm in a whole new world and I don't know what to do or where the fuck to start. I'm just-"

"I'm sorrys." Toki interrupted, licking his lips and eating some more. "I'm sorrys that you have to be here to begins with. Your parents must reallys hate you to send you here, all the ways to Norway."

"Yeah," Pickles smiled to himself. "I guess they do." there was a long silence before the redhead dared to ask a question that had been on his mind for a while. "You're nat bad, so why did your parents send you here?"

"It was mostly my dads." he confessed. "And no, I don't thinks that I'm bad, but they do." he picked at the remaining food on his plate. "Maybe I ams..."

"No you're nat."

Toki met Pickles' gaze and said, "Maybes I am. What abouts you? You ams bad, but why?"

"I'm a fuck-up," he said almost proudly. "just a standard, top of the line asshole."

"Nos, I don't think you ams."

Pickles was so shocked by this response that his mind froze for a moment. Toki didn't think that he was a fuck-up? Wow. _Everyone _thought Pickles was a fuck-up, even Pickles himself, so what could the Norwegian possibly see in him that was halfway decent? The redhead had beaten him, degraded him, and broken his personal property, but still that wasn't enough to get Toki to hate him? Suddenly a slight, quickly growing fear filled Pickles' heart. He looked down at his shoes and began to pick his nails nervously. If Toki didn't hate him now after all he'd done, then he obviously was willing to be friends with him, and the redhead didn't know how to handle this. The only reason that Gunther Bekker was his friend at all was because he had beaten him up so many times that Gunther had become friendly with him out of fear. This was different, though. What Toki was aiming for was something more than just some crappy, fear-based thing.

What would he ask Pickles, what would he want to know? All at once it became too much for him, and the redhead got up and walked away without giving Toki a second glance. He didn't know it, but the Norwegian wasn't phased by this at all. He just smiled to himself and ate the rest of his food.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

He walked into class feeling utterly hopeless and pathetic that day. As he took his seat, another boy turned and laughed at him. Pickles didn't hesitate to throw his books onto his desk, take his jacket off, and approach him. "What're you laughin' at, fucker?" before he even had a chance to talk, Pickles had beaten him senseless. The other kids grew silent at this display and stared at the redhead with wide, open eyes. "Fuck all of you." was all he said as he retreated back to his desk and put on his jacket. He didn't even bother to stay and try to explain himself to the teacher. In a matter of minutes he was back out of class again, sitting on the same bench that he'd talked to Toki at yesterday.

Something inside of him secretly craved the Norwegian's approval, but this wasn't a shock to him. He always desired people's approval, only usually he was too afraid to be denied it and he just made an asshole out of himself. No, Toki was different. There was something about him that Pickles longed for, something that he didn't quite know how to process or comprehend. It was a mixture of the other teenager's astounding innocence, his fearlessness—he hadn't so much as flinched when Pickles had beaten him—and his seemingly endless supply of patience towards those who gave him trouble that the redhead was so drawn to. That's why after he went out of class and wondered around the empty, echoing halls of the school, he let his feet take him back to he and his roommate's spot. He didn't have to wait long. Something inside of him said that Toki would be here, all he had to do was be patient, and surely enough about ten minutes later there he was, crunching thru the snow and trying to hide the shame that was etched so clearly on his face.

"Heys." he mumbled quietly, throwing his stuff down next to the bench. "cans I sit down?"

Pickles shrugged. He was smoking now, unconcerned if anyone saw him or if he got in trouble because of it. He was beyond the point of caring about anything right now except Toki. He wanted to give the Norwegian what he'd never gotten from anyone before—a good, safe place to retreat to. He wanted the other boy to feel safe around him, because he knew that he sure as hell needed that same thing. Slowly he turned and stared at Toki, noticed for the first time how embarrassed he seemed. "What?" he asked in a deliberate softness, careful not to sound too pressing or angry, "Did they give you hell, too?"

"They?"

"Everybody."

He looked away and nodded, let some of his long hair fall and hide his face. "Ja, they dids."

"Hmm." he exhaled and smoke came out thru his nostrils, filled the chilly air. They said no more, because there wasn't anything else that needed to be said. Pickles had made his point perfectly clear; he was there for Toki just as long as Toki was there for him. Neither of them would be able to survive this trip into Hell without someone else there to lessen the pain of every day, and so they'd have each other for that. Pickles felt ashamed that he was this weak—he'd never needed someone else in his life before, he'd been totally and independent, confident in himself and his abilities, but here it was a whole different game he was playing. Here he could lose.

"I...I didn't do anythings, you know." Toki said, swallowing down his shame. _"They _just always fucks with me."

"Yeah," Pickles said in agreement, "I know."

"And...well..." he hesitated, glanced over at the redhead, but then became shy again and looked away.

"What?" the other teenager prodded.

"You wants to know why I'm never in class? It ams not because I get kicked out—sometimesthat happens, but mostlys I just gets up and walks out on my own."

"You can do 'dat?" Pickles asked, amazed that Toki had the guts to do this. The Norwegian nodded and put some of his long hair behind his ears.

"Um-hmm, I dos it sometimes, but only when I really can't takes it anymore. Only when I feel-" he stopped right there, afraid to stretch Pickles' patience too far. The redhead, however, wasn't feeling angry or impatient in the least; he just nodded in understanding and stuck his cigarette between his lips.

"Yeah." and with that simple response, Pickles let his mind wander back to his former life in his hometown. He wondered how everyone was doing—Duncan Hansen, his stupid father, Seth, and Gunther. His mind reeled at this last thought. _Gunther! _Pickles abruptly put his cigarette out and began digging in his jacket pocket. Toki watched him with a curious look on his face.

"What ams you-"

"Ssh," he said, motioning for silence as he dialed in the number. "I'm gonna make a call."

"Ohs, okay." and he distractedly began chewing on his nails. Pickles saw this out of the corner of his eye and frowned.

He slapped Toki's hands and scolded, "Hey, don't do 'dat, please. I hate it when people do that. S'gross."

"But you dos it, too."

He lowered the phone. "I do?" and he remembered that yes, he sometimes did, but only out of sheer, terrifying nervousness. He only ever picked or bit at his nails when he was absolutely on the edge of his rope and needed a way to level himself off. His mother had told him to do this when he was very young, because he'd had severe issues with controlling his raging temper. 'Pickles,' she'd say harshly, 'you get angry too much—punching boys in the face, slapping girls...whenever you get angry like that just think about something else—_anything else...'_

"Yeah," he said flatly. "I guess I do." then he turned his attention back to the still ringing phone. "C'man, Gunter, you fuckin' prick...you fuckin'-"

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Gunter!"

"Yeah, it's me, but hurry up. It's two in the afternoon and me and Duncan are about to go to the field and get wasted."

"Right, uh—wait, _two?" _he inquired, "How can it be two in the fuckin'-"

"Times difference!" Toki chimed in almost happily. Pickles glanced over at him and nodded.

"Oh yeah, right. Anyways-"

"Who was that?" Gunther asked. "Who's there with you?"

"Nobody, just my roommate." Pickles said, rising up off the bench and pacing around in the snow. He could never keep still while on the phone.

"Oh, right, the cute one."

He became infuriated. "I never said-"

"You don't gotta say it, I could tell."

"Gad damn it, you little b-" he looked over, saw that Toki's eyes were wide with fear, and stopped himself. He took a deep breath and said with a forced calmness, "-listen, I don't have time for 'dis, alright? I only gat about an hour before I have to go back to class, and I don't wanna spend it talkin' to you about gay crap. Okay, I need-"

"Yeah, the classes!" Gunther exclaimed. He acted as if he'd forgotten that his best friend was actually in school at all. "Right, how are those?"

"Fuckin' stupid, alright? I can't stand it here, which is why I need to talk to you about that whole visitor's day thing."

"When is it?"

"I...uh..."

Toki, as if reading Pickles' mind, called out, "Next Mondays!"

"Thanks!" he yelled back before saying into the cell phone, "Next Monday. Can you get plane tickets?"

There was a slight hesitation in Gunther's voice before he admitted, "Yeah, about that...there's a lotta shit goin' on around here, and-"

"Unbelievable!" Pickles cried. "You can't even manage to get a couple of plane tickets for me! What the hell's wrang with you?"

"It's not me, its-"

"Listen, you've gat about five seconds to tell me why you can't come and see your _best friend _when he needs you. What kinda bitch are you?"

Gunther scoffed into the phone and asked sarcastically, "What, so now we're best friends again?"

"Just tell me! It's cold and I'm tired of standin' outside!" the redhead complained, making his way back over to the bench where Toki was sitting. The Norwegian was staring at him with big, almost expectant eyes, as if he expected to get a reward or something. Pickles just looked away and listened to Gunther speak.

"It's Jen—you remember Jen?"

He blushed. Yes, his little Italian princess. "Fuck yeah, I remember Jen."

"Crazy Jen? The Jen who still sticks naked pictures of herself and love notes in your locker, that Jen?"

"Yes," he said pressingly. " 'dat Jen, so what about her?"

"She..." Gunther seemed to be bracing himself as he said, "...she wants to come to. She wants us to buy her a ticket and-"

"Tell her no."

"We did, but she's crazy. She says she'll tell your dad that you—I dunno—raped her or somethin'."

Pickles laughed. "Wait, what? Are you stupid? Who cares if she tells him 'dat, he won't believe her!"

"He won't?"

And his laughter faded as he thought about this. His father had never trusted him, had always hated him, had always said that he'd grow up to be a rapist or a murderer or something worse... "I...uh...so what's the big deal? Just bring her."

"Pickle," Toki asked, nudging the redhead's arm. "ams everything okay? Ams it-"

"We can't find the cash to brig her!" Gunther exclaimed.

Pickles thought and thought. Suddenly he was feeling very stressed out, but an idea came to him. He said excitedly into the phone, ignoring Toki's questions, "Yeah you can, 'cause you're gonna go into my room, alright?"

"How will that help?" Gunther asked.

"In my room there's a little box thingy under my bed fulla cash. It's gat, like, fifty grand in it. I've been savin' it to move out, but if that bitch is gonna start a bunch of shit, just use it to get her and her big mouth over here and away from my dad." the more Pickles thought about it, the better of an idea it seemed. "Yeah," he thought aloud, smiling and blushing all over again, "get Jen down here, get me outta this stupid place, and then leave us alone and let me fuck her." Toki stopped his insistent inquires at this point; he turned completely red and scooted away from Pickles, looking astonished that he'd even heard those words. Gunther, however, wasn't surprised in the slightest by the redhead's thinking.

"I knew you'd say that. Okay, so it's under your bed, r-"

"Yeah, yeah, under my bed. Also, while you're in my house my dad keeps this really good whiskey in the cabinet just below the coffee maker. Get 'dat too, and if you can go to the little store by school and pick me up some more booze—_good _stuff, nat no cheap crap. Oh, and while you're at it, get me some-"

"Forget this!" Gunther cried in agitation. "I'm not your bitch and I'm not goin' shopping for you!"

His temper flared up again and he yelled into the cell phone, "You'll do it or I'll kick your dick-lovin' ass, do you understand me, you shitty little faggot?"

There was a moment of silence from the other end of the phone, and for one terrifying moment Pickles thought that Gunther had hung up on him, until a voice responded with a pitiful, "Fine, but only 'cause I miss you."

"Cut the gay crap and listen up—get some paper and a pencil, 'cause I want a lotta stuff. Now, while you're buyin' that booze from that store, don't forget to-"

"We're underage. How am I supposed to by any alcohol?"

He shrugged and smiled deviously over at Toki. The Norwegian was still quite red and puzzled-looking. "They never I.D. you there, so you shouldn't have a problem. Now listen, I want a buncha stuff...I want vadka, I want Bacardi. Get my drumsticks and my good guitar—nat the shitty acoustic Jen gave me last Christmas, 'cause only pussies play acoustic. I want my new Gibson..."

About half an hour later, a few moments from the bell, Pickles finally managed to hang up the phone. Once that was done he let out a relaxed sigh and looked up at the rolling, gray sky. Toki bit his lower lip shyly. "You...ums...bringing a girl?"

"Huh?" he broke his gaze away from the sky above and nodded over at him. "Yep, sure am."

"Ohs." he looked down at his boots and awkwardly cleared his throat. He was blushing all over again. "That ams cool, I guess. Girls ams nice."

"Yep, 'specially this one. She'll pretty much fuck anything that moves—and has red hair." Pickles grinned at this. Jen loved his hair...

Toki seemed even more confused by this. "I thinks your hair ams fine."

"But you're nat the one I'm gonna be fuckin', so I really don't give a shit if you like it or nat."

"Huh." he began kicking the snow below his boots, making little mountains of white powder. "Pickle?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever beens with a girl before?"

"Yep, loads of times."

"Hmm." he nodded and said softly, "That ams a surprise."

"Whadda mean by 'dat?" Pickles glared over at him. "I'm fine with girls, alright?"

"I never said that you wasn't, I just meants that-"

"I lost my virginity when I was, like..." he thought for a moment then said proudly, "...seven."

Toki laughed openly at this and shook his head. "Nos you didn't!"

"Uh, yeah, I did." Pickles insisted. "And I remember who the bitch it was, too. She was fourteen."

"Liar!"

"No way, I swear it's the truth!" he crossed his arms over his chest and said cockily, "Girls love me, I can't help it. They wanna fuck me all the time."

Toki got up, grabbed his book sack, and rolled his eyes. He said, his voice full of sarcastic humor, "Ja, sures they do, buts I don't see why." he turned and walked away. Pickles frowned at this.

"Wait, where you goin', asshole? You can't just say somethin' like that and walk away!"

"Class!" Toki yelled back. "It starts in a littles while."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Clearly there was some kind of mystic ability that Toki possessed to make Pickles lose himself, because when the redhead went to his next class he wasn't angry at all. He didn't know what kind of hold the Norwegian had over him, but obviously it was good, so he sat in his desk and silently tolerated the humiliation the other students put him thru. At the end of the day he was feeling more than pleased with himself and the little amount of work he'd managed to accomplish, so he strode into his dorm room feeling wholly satisfied. Toki was laying on his bed facing the wall, his thin blanket pulled up to his chin. Pickles didn't think this was strange, so he went up to him and punched him roughly on the shoulder. The Norwegian just let out a little whimper of pain and pulled the covers up higher to cover himself.

"Guess what?" Pickles asked happily. For once he actually was proud of himself, he didn't feel like a total fuck-up. When Toki said nothing he answered his own question. "I made it thru the whole rest of the fuckin' day without beating the shit outta anyone! Ain't that just—hey, Toki, you okay?"

"Ja." he answered, his voice muffled by all of the blankets and pillows he had covering himself. Pickles frowned at this, utterly unconvinced.

"You want me to leave you alone, I guess?"

"Ja."

"You still mad at m-"

"Ja, just leaves me alone. That would be greats."

"Okay, sorry." he let out an annoyed huff then went over to his bed and laid down. He lit himself a cigarette and began to smoke, just to annoy Toki. It wasn't necessarily out of meanness, but more because he just wanted to get his attention and make him talk. It worked; in a few seconds the Norwegian was throwing pillows at him and yelling loudly in his native language.

"_Slutte å gjøre det, jævelen!"_

Pickles laughed at this and sat up. He continued smoking. "What'd you just say, idiot? Talk in English, I don't play that stupid, fuckin'-"

"Would you just please shuts up already? God, when will you just get it thru your stupids head that _I don't care?" _Toki cried. Still he didn't turn over in his bed, he just laid facing the wall. Pickles opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the Norwegian was sobbing. A look of worry came across the redhead's face as he slowly rose up and snuffed out his cigarette.

"Dude, are you okay? What's-"

"Leave me alone! You wouldn't care anyways."

"I don't know what you're even talkin' about! You're just being an asshole! Hey, why can't you even look at me when you talk? Turn over, lemme see your stupid fuckin' face, you prick." when Toki didn't comply, Pickles got up and angrily went over and made him turn to face him. He was surprised to see that Toki was cradling a bloody tissue to his chest and that his lip was split open. Blood slowly tricked out of the Norwegian's mouth, and he wiped it away before pushing Pickles aside and getting up. He made his way over to the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Wait!" the redhead called, desperate to make things right. "I didn't know—I didn't mean-"

"Leaves me alone! _Jeg hater deg!"_

"But I..." and his concern gave way to frustration. So what if Toki was hurt? That didn't mean he had to take it out on everyone else. Pickles pounded on the bathroom door and demanded, "Asshole, you'd better open this fuckin' door and talk to me like-"

"_Likes what?" _his voice was a wretched half-shriek, half-sob.

"Like a real man! Alright, so someone beat the hell outta you, who cares? Rub some dirt in it and be a man! That's what my dad always told me, and when I cried you know what he said?"

He heard Toki sniffle loudly in the confines of the bathroom before asking, "W-What?"

"He said he'd give me a fuckin' reason to cry, and he'd-" no, that was too much. He couldn't tell anyone what his father did to him, all the beatings he'd received from that man. Not even Toki could know, so he quickly resumed with, "Just get over it and come out and talk to me like real man."

Toki unlocked the door and stood there in the bathroom, his head hung low, his hair sticky with blood and clinging to his bleeding lips. He knew that Pickles was staring at him, sizing him up all over again, just like he'd done the day they'd met, and so he shrank back somewhat and spoke with an annoying meekness that the redhead despised. "I...I..." he bit his lower lip, ignoring the stinging, tear-summoning pain this brought onto him, _"I'm nots a man!" _that's it, he had lost his calmness all over again and he was sobbing and shrieking again, trying to shut the door once more on Pickles.

The redhead was too smart for him, though; this time when Toki went to slam the door shut, he stopped it with his bare foot. The door slammed into his foot hard, making him let out a yelp of pain and stagger back. That was all the motivation Toki needed to hurriedly lock himself in the bathroom again. Pickles rolled his eyes and took off his jacket. He said irritably, "Look, if you wanna be a little bitch about this, then fine, but you know what? You think that hurts, that little cut on your lip? That doesn't hurt, that isn't real pain. You don't fuckin' know real pain! You're a little bitch!"

"I'm nots a bitch!"

"Then prove it! Come outta the bathroom!"

"No!"

He sighed. So that wasn't going to work. Breathing heavily with rage, Pickles looked around the small room for anything that could help. He saw it, the old book. _The Catcher in the Rye. _He went over and opened it to a random page. From there he began reading.

"_...I sat in the chair for a while and smoked a couple of cigarettes..."_

"Pickle!" Toki begged, punching at the door in an attempt to get the other teenager's attention. "Stop readings my book!"

"_...Boy, I felt miserable. I felt so depressed you can't imagine..."_

"Shuts up! Stop reading!"

He didn't. Instead he just flipped a few pages and resumed, even louder now, _"...What I really felt like, though, was committing suicide. I felt like jumping out the window. I probably would've done it, too, if I'd been sure somebody'd cover me up as soon as I landed. I-"_

"Fine!" he unlocked the door, snatched the book back, and howled, "Fine, I'm outs! What the fuck do you want?"

"You...uh..." Pickles backed away and shrugged. "Just man up, 'dat's all."

Toki rolled his eyes at this and said hopelessly, "Pickle, I'm onlys fifteen! How the fuck ams I supposed to man up when-"

"Only fifteen? Whoa." He looked down. "But you don't act it. Sometimes you're weird and all mature. It throws me aff."

The Norwegian lost all signs of anger, resentment, and embarrassment and actually smiled at this statement. "Whats?" he asked innocently. "What does it dos?"

"Throws me aff," Pickles repeated. Toki began laughing, but the redhead just stood there frowning in confusion. "What's so funny?"

"You—'affs'. Ams that how all Americans talks?"

He blushed and went and laid down on his bed. "Asshole." he murmured as he leaned over and switched off the lamp. Toki happily went and crawled under the covers of his bed again, still gently dabbing his bleeding lip with his tissue. After a while Pickles couldn't help but ask, "Hey, kid, you're okay, right? I mean..." he felt so stupid for caring, for showing even a small bit of affection or concern for Toki, but he couldn't help it, not after seeing him like that, so pitiful and hurt. "...if you're nat I could, y'know, beat the shit outta someone for you."

"Nos, I think I can handle it."

"Oh. Okay, then."

Another moment of silence elapsed before, "Pickle?"

"Um-hm?" he asked, trying to make out the other teenager's face in the dark. He couldn't. The room was pitch black.

"I...well, nevers mind."

"Okay." he laid on his back and closed his eyes. Just when he had began to nod off to sleep he thought of something else he needed to say. "Heya, Toki?"

"Ja?"

"I lied."

"You lied? Abouts what?"

"That whole virginity thing."

He didn't seem surprised. "Oh."

Pickles didn't know what on earth he was thinking as he confessed, "I didn't lose it when I was seven, it was three months ago, and I've only really ever screwed one girl."

"Hmm. What ams her name?"

"Gabardi, Jen Gabardi."

"Oh. Okays, then." he acted as if this was the most normal conversation in the world, and Pickles really did silently thank him for that. At least he didn't make it awkward. Suddenly the redhead realized that he could talk to Toki about pretty much anything, and this made him smile to himself.

"Yeah," he continued, "and you know what else?"

"Whats?"

"I didn't even really like her, nobody did. Gunter dared me to fuck her, just to see if she'd actually put out. When she did I was so fuckin' surprised...scared shitless, too." he sighed in content and closed his eyes.

Toki just let out another simple, "Umm-hmm."

"It's weird, y'know? I mean, you _do _know, right—you know how weird it is to fuck a girl for the first time?"

"Nopes."

He frowned at this response. "Whadda mean _nopes?"_

"I don't."

So it was true, his first guess had been correct after all. Toki was a sad little virgin. Pickles almost laughed aloud at this, but controlled himself for fear of embarrassing the other teenager. "Uh-huh, sure. You mean you've honestly never gotten any?"

"Nope."

"Never?"

"Nos." Toki repeated calmly. He didn't seemed ashamed in the slightest, which was very odd. "Never, nevers, never, nevers, nev-"

"No sex, nat ever?"

He laughed now, amused by Pickles' failure to comprehend this fact. "Nopes, not ever."

"But have you ever wanted to?"

"Sures, I guess. Doesn't everyones?"

A weak answer. Pickles didn't accept it. He wanted to see just how far he could push Toki until he broke down and became humiliated. He wanted to know just how much he could trust the teenager, so he pressed on. "Don't you ever get horny?"

He hesitated before admitting, "Doesn't everyones?"

"Sure, but I'm nat talkin' about everyone, I'm talkin' about _you."_

"Oh...wells, ja, I guess."

"Well whadda do? I mean, if you've never fucked a girl, you have to do _something,_ right?"

"Can we stops talking about this?" There it was, his breaking point. Although Pickles couldn't see Toki's face, he could tell that he was blushing madly. This idea made him chuckle, so he persisted relentlessly.

"Sorry, I guess I just can't remember what it's like."

"What what ams like?"

"Nat ever havin' fucked anyone, being a virgin. I don't get it. Why don't you fuck someone? I bet you could. Don't you want to?"

"I..."

" 'Cause I could set you up, I swear to Gad."

This idea seemed to intrigue Toki. "With whos?"

"Jen. She's Italian, really horny, and she'll do pretty much whatever I tell her. You want me to make her get with you?"

"I...n-nos, that ams fine. I'm good."

"Whatever...queer."

Toki snapped, "Whats did you just say?"

"Nothin'," Pickles answered, snickering to himself. "nothin' at all." He didn't know why, but that night he dreamed more about sex than usual, and he woke up feeling totally horny and aroused. His dreams hadn't all been about Jen Gabardi, his Italian princess, though.

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****A/N****

**O_O**

**OMG, why is the ginger-haired alcoholic so fucking sexy? Damn, I don't know, but I hope you liked this chapter. More to come, and as always reviews are appreciated and all of that stuff. Yeah...I'm gonna go type the next chapter now while I'm still in the mood. Oh, and by the way, I've started uploading more Metalocalypse fanart up on my Deviantart account, so check it out if you want. **

**[theLastFlowerchild]**

**PEACE & LOVE**


	5. Chapter 5::Trust Is Broken

_**CHAPTER 5: TRUST IS BROKEN**_

Pickles let out a tired half-snore, half-moan and turned over in his bed. He opened his eyes a little, saw the golden sunlight that was illuminating the room, and put a pillow over his face. In the back of his mind he wondered why he'd been allowed to sleep so late—what happened to class? Then again, he didn't really care enough to get himself out of bed and ask Toki; he just fell right back into a gentle doze before being awakened by the feeling of something disgustingly warm and wet on his hand. He slapped the air aimlessly, trying to make this sleep-shattering distraction leave, but it came back.

"Toki, leave me alone! I wanna sleep!"

His words were met with a gentle nudge of fur and a small howl in his ear. Pickles let out a startled gasp and sat up. He was surprised to see a young puppy in his bed, staring happily up at him. He gathered quickly that this was far from any ordinary dog, however, because its eyes were an astonishing liquid gold color, much like the light that was now drifting into the room, and its fur was blacker than midnight. Pickles backed away from the animal, clutching another pillow to his chest. Only when his back was flat against the wall did he try to lightly kick the puppy away.

"Get away, you stupid..." but he couldn't hurt the animal. In a second it was nuzzling his foot and licking it, letting out small, playful yelps. Pickles' eyes grew wide as he ran a hand thru his hair. "Unbelievable." he pushed the pup aside gently then got up and knocked on the bathroom door. The puppy didn't hesitate to follow him, its mesmerizing eyes aglow with delight. It jumped up, clawed at the redhead's jeans, and gnawed at his toes. Pickles let out a hiss of annoyance and picked the thing up. When the bathroom door opened, he held the animal up in front of the other teenager's face. "Hey, Toki, you gat somethin' to explain to me?"

"Explains?" the Norwegian repeated, "Explains what?"

Pickles said angrily, "What the fuck is 'dis doin' here?"

"Ohs...well..." Toki's voice trailed off as he stepped out of the bathroom. He took the animal away from the redhead and went to sit on his bed. His long, caramel-colored hair dripped from the shower he'd just taken, chilling him, but he didn't care. He just gave Pickles a horrible, sorrowful, pleading gaze with his pale blue eyes. _"Please, _Pickle, _please."_

Pickles knew all too well what the other teenager was trying to do. He'd played this game far too many times in his own life. "No," he said firmly, sitting beside Toki on the bed. "we're nat keepin' it."

"Buts he ams all alone."

"Huh?" he glanced down at the yellow-eyed beast and a little bit of fear filled his heart. No, this was no dog. His face paled as the realization hit him, and he scooted away from the animal. Toki just shook his head in denial.

"No, Pickle, you don't gets it. He was-"

"It's a wolf!" he exclaimed, kicking Toki hard in the ribs. "You brought a fuckin' wolf into our room? How stupid are you?"

"I can explain!"

"No, no fuckin' way! Give it here." he held out his hand. Toki didn't move, he just sat there petting the wolf puppy, feeling its soft fur between his fingers.

"What ams you going to do with it?"

"Bring it back to the forest where it belongs! Gad, how could you be so stupid?" Pickles rolled his eyes. The school was surrounded by thick woods and he'd known that some wildlife inhabited it—only a fool would think otherwise—but he'd never thought that Toki would do something so stupid, even if he did love animals. "Where'd you get it from, anyway? Did you take it from it's mom when she wasn't looking?"

The Norwegian shook his head. He gave the wolf puppy a little kiss on the nose and then said, "He was alones, and he looked reallys cold and sad and hungry, so I picked him up ands put him in my jacket."

"And you fed him?"

"Ja." he confessed.

Pickles cursed and threw a pillow down onto the floor in frustration. "You idiot! You're never supposed to feed stuff, nat _ever! _If you feed it, then you get attached!"

"Nos," Toki disagreed, "if you names it you get attached."

"Did you name it?"

"Don't you means did I name _him?"_

Pickles tried to control his growing anger as he nodded and said curtly, "Yeah, whatever."

He smiled. "Hims name ams Eyulf."

The redhead gave him a clueless look. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Eyulf," Toki repeated patiently. "it means lucky wolf."

"Oh my Gad, you really named it..." he shook his head and sighed. " 'Dat means I'm gonna have to kill you to get rid of it."

The Norwegian hesitated before saying, "Well we don't haves to gets rid of him. Look, he ams still too tired to survive out in the wilds anyway-" he held the yellow-eyed wolf up to Pickles and added, "-he woulds die."

Guilt tugged at the redhead's stomach as he stared into Eyulf's golden eyes. Sure, the thing was adorable and manageable now, but what about in another month or two? How long would it take for the wolf to realize that he was the predator and the two teenagers before him were prey? Still, he couldn't say no, not with Toki and Eyulf giving him _that look. _Finally he nodded and said in defeat, "Fine, but what're we gonna do? Do they even allow animals here?"

"Nopes, but I already thoughts of that. See," Toki explained, letting the wolf puppy jump out of his arms and onto the floor. "all we haves to do is train him to be really stills when someone comes in."

"That's stupid. He'd never stay still. Look at him." he motioned to Eyulf, who was now busy running around the small room in circles, letting out loud, weak howls.

"Wells we could trains him to hide. He ams really smart."

"That's stupid too. Look, the best thing to do would be to never, ever go out in the middle of a forest and pick up wild animals again." he said, trying to ease his anger by making a joke of the whole situation.

Toki's face filled with despair. "Buts he was sos cute and sad!"

"Yeah," Pickles rolled his eyes. "right, just like you, huh?" he didn't realize the full effect of his words until about a second later when Toki was giving him a strange, confused look.

"Whats do you mean by that?"

Then he realized that he'd accidentally called the Norwegian cute, and he raced to correct his mistake. "Don't be a fag, you know what I meant—I meant you look sad, fuckin' pitiful." he went over, scooped up the hyper Eyulf, and threw him over to Toki. "Take care of the thing, will ya? If he pisses or shits in the room, you clean it up, and if he's hungry then you feed him, alright?"

"Fines." he smiled down at the wolf pup joyously. "Thanks yous, Pickle!"

"Yeah, just don't let anyone know you gat him, alright?"

Toki nodded and began playing with Eyulf childishly. "Okays."

"And I'm nat callin' him that stupid name you said earlier." Pickles added, watching the two fool around. "I'm gonna think of a better name, one 'dats actually right."

"Right?" he glanced up at the redhead, looking puzzled. "What ams you mean, right?"

"Y'know, in English. I know!" he picked up the wolf pup by the scruff of its neck, held it up to eye-level, and announced, "Hey, fucker, listen t'me, alr-"

"Don'ts calls him fucker."

"I'm nat!" and he turned his attention back to the wolf. "You're name is-" the puppy lashed out in a sudden fit of aggression and bit the redhead's nose. Pickles threw it to the ground and fell back, blood dripping down his face. Toki's eyes filled with fear as he hurried to restrain the wolf.

"Pickle, he ams just excited, he didn'ts mean-"

"Fang." he said simply, taking his jacket and throwing it over his shoulders. "The thing's name is Fang." and he opened the door, prepared to go out, but Toki stopped him.

"Wait, where ams you going? It ams our day off, we don't have to go to any classes."

He arched a brow. "Really? What day is it?"

"_Lørdag."_

"In English?"

"Saturdays."

"Oh. Well I'm hungry, so I'm gonna go get breakfast." Pickles left the room and the Norwegian followed, still cradling the wolf pup to his chest. The more they walked, the more depressed Pickles became. He stopped and turned to Toki and Fang. "Do they have any vending machines here with American food in them? Y'know, like Skittles or Snickers or-"

"Ja, a few."

"Then let's go get some food."

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"You really are fucked in the head, you know 'dat?" Pickles inquired as he walked beside Toki outside. The Norwegian was still clinging to Fang; the redhead sneered at this. "What happens when there are other people around? How're you gonna hide it then, huh?"

He shrugged. "I'll thinks of that when the time comes." he gleefully began running his fingers thru the young wolf's fur. _"Jeg elsker deg," _he whispered to the animal sweetly, _"jeg elsker d-"_

"Shut it." Pickles snapped, unable to contain his annoyance any longer. So the same stupid creature that had woken him up from the greatest dream of his life was now the sole object of Toki's affection? He didn't know why it bothered him so much, but it did, and this didn't escape the Norwegian's notice.

He elbowed the redhead lightly and inquired, "Ams you so mad because you're hungry?"

"No." he said, his voice full of resentment. He'd never tell Toki the true reason for his anger. How could he? _I'm mad because you've only met the stupid dog three seconds ago and you fuckin' love the damn thing... _

"Well then what ams it?"

"Shut up." Pickles mumbled dejectedly, following Toki thru the snowy yard of the school. Nobody was out yet. It was still pretty early for students to be moving about, so his thoughts of someone seeing the young wolf were pushed to the back of his mind. He'd worry some other time, but now he was starving. His stomach let out a loud growl as they walked along, trudging thru the snow. He spit on the ground and asked, "Doesn't it ever stap snowing in 'dis stupid place?" Toki just looked down at his boots and laughed. He tried to hide it, but Pickles heard him anyway and glared over at him. "What? Damn it, why're you always laughin' at me? Do you _want _me to fuckin' kill you?"

"Nos, but-"

"Then stap laughin' at-"

He laughed again, but this time he was smart enough to explain, "I'm sorrys, you ams just so funny."

The redhead stopped walking and arched a brow. "What? Me, funny?"

Toki quit walking as well and turned to him. "Ja, especially the way you talks like that all the time—I likes it."

"It's just how I talk."

"Do I haves an accent?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning, "you can't speak English, now c'man, let's go. I'm fuckin' starving." he resumed trudging thru the snow until they reached the first vending machine. He licked his lips then pressed his face to the glass. Candy bars were packed in there by the dozen, and he quickly whipped out his wallet and attempted to force a dollar bill into the machine. It just spit the currency back out. Pickles frowned at this and turned to Toki. "Why won't it take my money?"

"Maybe because this ams Norway and in Norway we don't use thats money." he said as if it were obvious. "Here." he pulled out a crinkled, slightly torn bill from his own pocket and jammed it into the machine. Pickles immediately felt guilty that he'd driven Toki to do this, but once that candy bar was in his hand, he could care less.

"I'll pay you back."

Toki shrugged. "Forgets it. I'm goings to be poor no matters what, one dollar won't makes any difference."

"Thanks." he ripped off the packaging and bit into it. His mouth was greeted with a disgustingly different taste, and he spat it out. Toki gave him a confused look.

"Well, Gods, if you don't likes it, why did you buy it?"

"What _is _'dis crap? This is nat candy! It's-"

"_Mandelstang."_

Pickels glared at him and demanded hostilly, "What the fuck did you just call me?"

The Norwegian shook his head, took the candy bar, and picked the wrapper up from off the ground. Meanwhile Fang jumped from his arms and began to lick at the snow on Pickles' shoes. "This," Toki said, indicating the wrapper, "ams a candy bar. I don't know what you haves in America, but-"

"It tastes all gross and weird!"

"It ams just mint in the middle with chocolate and almonds on tops." he shrugged and ate the bar whole. "See? It ams good. Nots the best, but-"

"Buy me somethin' better."

"I can'ts." he said tactfully, picking up Fang. "That was my lasts dollar."

"_Please." _Pickles begged. "I'm fuckin' dying!"

Toki let out a frustrated sigh then went back over to the vending machine. "Fines, I'll buy you something you'll likes." he inserted his last dollar into the machine and in a moment there was another wrapped bar in his hands. _"Freia melkesjokolade," _he said, passing the candy to Pickles. "enjoys."

He unwrapped it and took a small, cautious bite. His eyes grew wide and his mouth craved more. Yes, he must have more of this magic. He met Toki's expectant, happy gaze and exclaimed, "What the hell is this shit?"

"What, you don't likes it either? God, you ams picky. It's just-"

"_What is it? _It's the best thing I ever ate!"

The Norwegian laughed at him and said simply, "It ams just chocolate, idiot."

Apparently the quality of American chocolate was a joke compared to that of Norwegian chocolate. Pickles hurriedly finished the rest of the bar and then he and Toki began to make their way back up their room. The Norwegian removed his jacket and carefully placed it over Fang as they walked; it was later now, and a few people passed them as they went back to the room. He instructed the young wolf, "Don'ts move." and coolly kept up pace with Pickles. The redhead frowned at this.

"You can't keep hidin' him forever, y'know."

"I knows." he responded. "But I'm just nots ready to let him go yet."

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Pickles' first day off was long and rather boring. Although he relished the time he got to spend alone with Toki—no, with himself, because no matter what he still didn't need anyone else—he still longed for something to do. At the end of the day he laid on his bed staring at the wall as the Norwegian played with Fang. His green eyes glowed when he shifted them upon Toki, saw him behaving in such an amazingly beautiful, carefree way. His stomach filled with a sudden warm, almost shameful feeling, and he swallowed as it engulfed his whole body. More time slowly passed and as the last few rays of precious sunlight came in thru the window, Toki got up and said, "I'ms going to go take a shower. Can you watch Fang?"

"Huh?" he'd nearly been asleep. "Yeah, alright, whatever." and the young wolf was deposited into his arms. Pickles watched carefully as the Norwegian got his clothes and went into the bathroom; he then closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep again, but about a dozen lewd images filled his head. Pickles grinned and patted fang on his furry head. "You're lucky," he said with a sigh, "you're too small to get horny." Fang simply growled a little and bit his index finger. Pickles yanked his hand out of the animal's mouth and smacked it sharply on the nose. "Shit! Don't do 'dat!" The young wolf let out a disappointed little growl and hopped up onto the redhead's chest. It turned in a circle for a few times before finally laying down and closing its eyes. Pickles sneered, "Stupid thing. _'Dat's _why you're still around, _that's _why I can't get rid of you; you're too fuckin' cute."

He heard the shower switch on in the bathroom, and his face grew red. He needed to be alone, and he needed it now. He itched his thigh, removed Fang from his chest, and sat up. He bit his lip and looked around the room. Pickles didn't know at that particular moment what kind of help he needed, only that he needed it soon—he needed it _now. _Without thinking he got up and went and pounded on the bathroom door. Toki sounded annoyed as he cried, "Whats the hell ams wrong? I'm in the-"

"Yeah, well get out."

"Buts-"

"Did you just turn the water an?"

A pause then, "Ja."

"You aren't covered in soap?"

"Nos, buts-"

"Then get out."

"I-"

"_Please! _'Dis is really, really important." when no answer came, Pickles knocked on the door again. "Hey, you getting out, or what?"

"Nos."

He let out a loud, angry yell. "But I need the bathroom now! It can't wait!"

"It ams going to have to!"

Pickles, not knowing what else to do, let his anger take over. He kicked open the bathroom door and threw Toki's clothes outside. In an instant the Norwegian had switched off the shower and was yelling, "What the fucks ams you doing in here?"

"Get out now, I said! Gad, what are you, stupid? I ain't fuckin' around, so get out _now!"_

"But I'ms naked!"

"So what? Just get out!"

Toki's dripping wet hand reached beyond the shower curtain and took hold of a towel. He got out of the shower, a deadly look on his face. "I thought you weren't goings to do this kinds of shit anymore. I thought-"

"I'm nat, I'm just-" he swallowed and stared at the Norwegian in his towel. He was trembling with cold and anger, clearly struggling to hold back his temper. In the end all Pickles could manage to do was mumble out a hasty apology and push Toki the rest of the way out of the bathroom. After locking the door he turned and surveyed the empty room. There was a faded shirt laying in a crumpled heap next to the sink; he picked it up, prepared to throw it back out to Toki, but stopped. Pickles ran his hand along the fabric, bunched it up in his hands. Without thinking, he closed his eyes and brought it up to his nose.

So _that's _what Toki smelled like. It was a scent that he partially recognized from some other kids at his school—it was the oddly prominent smell of adolescence. To be exact, it was the combined smells of sweat, sugar, and insecurity. Pickles could only describe it as that. He'd smelled like that a few years ago, but now he was more grown up and aware of his position in the world. The kind of smell that hung on Toki's shirt was a childish one, one that showed the Norwegian's true lack of maturity. He liked it. There was also something else about that delicious smell—it was sweet, like every good thing Pickles could imagine. It was like sex, love, candy, kisses, compassion, and strawberry wine—his favorite drink ever, though he wouldn't admit it—all wrapped up into one magnificent little bunch of wrinkled, over-worn fabric.

He felt himself inhale again and again, and, without warning, begin to cry. Above all, it smelled like home. No, not his pitiful excuse for a home in Wisconsin, but the home that he'd always wished for. He wanted to be surrounded in the smell forever, if that was possible. Maybe then he'd finally feel like he belonged somewhere. With this last thought, Pickles was sent spiraling into a sea of deep depression. It hit him then that no matter what he wouldn't belong to anyone or anywhere. He was a loner, and he was trapped in his own sense of inferiority. He went over, sat on the edge of the tub, and held the shirt tightly in his hands. He boldly smelled it again, then closed his green eyes and repeated this action until his nose burned with the scent. All at once he became aware of just the particular relief he needed, and he unzipped his pants. He glanced over at the door to make sure it was still locked, pressed Toki's shirt to his nose again, and began.

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"Sorry about the shower." Pickles commented as he exited the bathroom and threw the shirt onto his bed. "I just needed some-"

"Please just shuts up." the Norwegian cut him off. He was focused on feeding Fang some scraps he'd kept from the dining hall. "Whats took you so long anyways? I thought you just hads to go piss or somethings."

"I...uh..." his face turned almost as red as his hair. He hid this by turning to face the wall. "N-Nothin', I wasn't doin' nothing, it's just...I..."

"Sorry I asked." Toki mumbled, petting Fang gently.

"No, it's-"

"Did you sees my shirt?"

"Huh?" Pickles' face paled. He threw his pillows over the faded shirt that was on his bed then laid down on the covers. "Shirt? What're you talkin' about?"

Toki's pale eyes analyzed him carefully before he explained, "My shirts, it ams an old blue ones. I thought I broughts it in the bathroom, but I guess I lost it."

"Must have, 'cause there wasn't nothin' in there."

"That sucks." he sighed. "Guess I haves to get a new shirt, now."

Pickles raced to say, "You can borrow one of mine!"

Toki arched a brow and asked doubtfully, as if he thought the redhead was playing some joke on him, "Reallys?"

He jumped off of his bed, went over to his suitcase, and opened it. "Yeah, sure, any one you want. What about this one?" It, like Toki's, was old, faded, and well-worn, plain black with a white _AC/DC _logo on the front. The Norwegian shrugged. It was only now that Pickles realized that the other teenager was laying on his bed shirtless, his slender and surprisingly muscular frame totally exposed. He threw the shirt over to him before closing his suitcase.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, no prablem. S'old, anyway. I gat a million _AC/DC _shirts." Honestly, he actually wanted nothing more than to see Toki wearing his clothes. It was a stupid, odd thought, but Pickles couldn't help but imagine Toki sniffing that old _AC/DC _shirt. He wondered what he smelled like—probably disgusting, like booze, vomit, and cigarette smoke. If the Norwegian smelled this, would he like it? Pickles felt his face growing hot as he rose to his feet and went back over to his bed. He whistled to Fang and patted his mattress. "C'man, you little fucker." the young wolf's yellow eyes sparkled as he abandoned his table-scrap meal and jumped over onto the redhead's bed. Fang glanced over at the window, up at the full moon, and let out a loud, solemn howl. Pickles quickly put his hands over the wolf's jaws and forced them shut. "No, shut up! You're gonna get us in trouble, you little-"

"You ams really nice," Toki commented, smiling at Pickles thoughtfully. "even if you don't wants to be."

"Yeah, well...fuck that. No I'm nat, I suck. I'm fuckin' horrible." he swallowed; suddenly he was craving that smell again. He had to fight back the overwhelming urge to pin Toki to his bed and press his nose to the Norwegian's bare skin...

What on Earth was he thinking? What was happening to him?

"Goodnights, Pickle."

"Yeah, night." just like that he was left alone in the dark by himself, like every other night of his life, only this time he didn't feel so pitifully alone. He didn't feel like a miserable, worthless speck of nothingness. As he closed his eyes and snuggled up to Fang, he felt almost happy.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Visitor's day came sooner than Pickles would have liked, and soon he was forced to share Toki's attention with his two best friends. He showed them around the school then took them up to his room, mostly just to get out of the spotlight for a while—the other students were all staring at him and his strange-talking, American friends as though they were all aliens. Pickles didn't really blame them, though, because Gunther and Jen behaved like he had before coming to the school—they were loud, obnoxious, and they wanted to fight or fuck anything that moved. He was almost afraid to let Toki meet them, but he didn't have much of a choice. He introduced the two as, "Yeah, 'dis is stupid Gunter Bekker and Jen Gabardi."

Jen, who was clinging to Pickles and desperately trying to hold his attention, noticed Toki and let her dark eyes grow wide. "Who's _he,_ baby?" she asked the redhead; he just rolled his eyes. He'd heard the way she said 'he'. _Who's _he, _baby? _Generally meant, _You think _he _would fuck me?_ Stupid, slutty Jen. God, he loved her.

"My roommate." Pickles answered, pulling Jen a little closer.

"The cute one, right?" Gunther asked, sitting on Pickles' bed and smiling at the Norwegian. Next to the bed he threw down a large book sack full of the things that Pickles had asked for—a couple of bottles of vodka—sneaking that all the way to Norway hadn't been an easy task—his drumsticks, and tons of greasy, American snacks. He also laid down an acoustic guitar. "He _is _cute. He's almost-"

"Shut up, you stupid fag!" Pickles howled, closing the door to the room. "He isn't gay—nobody here is but you, so just save it." He couldn't say anything else, because in a moment Jen was pulling him over to Toki's bed.

"You know, it was a _really _long flight here." she crooned.

"Oh yeah?" he began playing with some of her long, dark, curled hair. God, he loved her hair. It was lush, not flat and boring like so many other girls'. "And what were you thinkin' about on that _long, long _flight?"

"What do you think?" she pressed her lips to his cheek and laughed.

Toki just seemed lost. He stood in the middle of the room unsure of what to do or even if his presence was still welcome. Pickles noticed this and rushed to correct it; he wanted to make the Norwegian feel perfectly at home, because, surprisingly enough, nobody had come to visit Toki today. The other teenager had just been left to sit up in his room playing with Fang while everyone else visited and laughed with their friends. Now Pickles pushed Jen away from him and called to Toki, "Hey, you feelin' okay?"

"Do I really haves to stay in here with you guys? I don'ts..."he looked away and picked up Fang. "I can go."

"No, don't!" the redhead exclaimed, urging Toki over to where Gunther was sitting. "Talk to Bekker, he's great." he was torn—of course he wanted to make the Norwegian feel welcome, but he also wanted to receive Jen's attention _right now. _Without knowing what to do, he resorted to his old ways, and melted back into Jen's sweet embrace. Things didn't turn out as badly as he'd expected them too. Surprisingly, Toki was able to talk to Gunther quite easily. He even brought out Fang and let Bekker hold him.

"So it's a wolf?"

"Ja."

"Ah, okay. Pretty cool." he reached out to pat Fang's head, but hesitated and glanced over at Toki. "Does it bite?"

He shrugged. "Ja, when he wants tos."

Gunther grinned and scooted a little closer to the Norwegian. He gently rubbed Fang's back and then inquired, "So you've lived here your entire life, right?"

"Ja."

"Ja—what's that mean? Is that like yeah?"

Toki nodded and repeated, smiling timidly, "Ja."

"That's so fuckin' cu-"

_"Gunter!" _Pickles hissed, breaking away from Jen.

Bekker turned to his friend and raced to say, "What? I wasn't gonna say nothin' bad."

Pickles scoffed. "Yeah, right._ Everything _you say is bad, you fuckin' dick." and he allowed himself to be overcome by Jen again. He pressed a hand up her short skirt, felt her warm skin beneath his palm, and whispered, "The girls here don't have anything on you, baby."

She laughed and kissed him. "When do they leave—Bekker and the other one?"

"Why?" he ran his lips along her cheek. "You wanna be alone?"

"Yeah, I really do."

"Fine. Hold—_Gunter!" _he exclaimed, throwing Jen off of him and onto the floor. Bekker was holding Toki's hands, whispering to him only God knew what. He hurriedly pulled the two apart then hauled his best friend to his feet. "You fuckin' idiot! I can't look away for one second without you tryin' to-"

"Maybe we should go outisde?" Bekker suggested.

"Why the fuck would we do 'dat?"

Gunther motioned to Toki, and Pickles let out an enraged growl. "You fuckin' fag, I swear to Gad if you don't leave him alone, then-"

"Baby, you hurt me!" Jen whined, sitting up with Toki's help. She flashed an enticing smile at the Norwegian and said in an overly friendly way, "Thank you so much, baby. Pickles would never help me. He's always-"

"Shut up! Both of you, just quit it!" Pickles cried, pushing Gunther away from him. "Look, I wanted you two to come here to see me, nat to-"

"We weren't doing anything! You're delusional!" Bekker argued, pushing Pickles right back. "Fuck this! I didn't come all the way to God damn Norway for _this!"_

"What the hell did you come for, then?" he demanded.

"Pickle!" Toki blurted out, his pale eyes full of alarm. "Maybes I should just go."

"Fuck no! Why should you have to leave! This ain't your fau-"

"He should leave so we can be alone, like you said." Jen interrupted, crossing her arms and pouting, " 'Cause I thought we were gonna get some alone time."

"Fine!" Pickles took Gunther's arm and hauled him over to the door. "Get out and lemme deal with you later! You and Toki get the fuck outta my room!"

"Buts why me?"

His green eyes locked with Toki's pale ones. _Please,_ he silently begged, _please let me be alone with Jen. _Ultimately, the Norwegian nodded in compliance and stepped outside with Gunther. "Good." Pickles sighed and went back over to his girl. "Now what kinda alone time did you want again?" Jen gave him a seductive smile.

"Any kind you want, baby."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

"This is fucking bullshit!" Gunther yelled, kicking the wall. "Who the hell does he think he is? I just flew a whole day in a fucking plane, and-"

"I'ms sorry." Toki said, sitting down on the floor. "It ams my fault." Bekker cast him a sympathetic gaze and went to sit right next to him. It was as if the anger was completely drained from his body when he heard the Norwegian speak. He loved it. His voice was so calming, so soothing. Sure, he knew that Pickles would kill him if he tried anything, but still...

"It's not your fault, it's mine." he dared to reach for Toki's hand again. When the Norwegian let him have it, he felt a little bolder, so he scooted closer to the other boy and smiled charmingly. "He's homophobic."

The other teenager became confused by this. "He ams a what?"

"Homoph—wait, he didn't tell you? Oh, man." Gunther laughed and held Toki's hand a little tighter. "I can't believe he didn't tell you that I'm gay."

"You ams _what?"_

"Gay—you do know what that means, right?"

He nodded, still allowing Gunther to touch him. "Ja, I thinks so, but why would he hates you because of that?"

"Because he—well _we _did something."

Toki's pale eyes grew wide. "You dids? What?"

Gunther brushed this question aside and said loftily, "Oh, nothin' you'd be interested in. Besides, he'd kill me if I told anyone, especially you."

"What happened?" the Norwegian asked again, this time with more force behind his voice. The other boy laughed again and pulled him into his lap. Toki sat there, his cheeks burning, his hair in his face, not knowing how to react to this. Nobody had ever shown him this kind of attention before, and he loved it. He wanted more. "What happened?" he repeated.

"Me and him, back in middle school—eighth grade, I think," Gunther began, "we used to hang out in this field a lot. He'd steal beer from his dad and bring it, and we'd get drunk. One day he had a few sips too many and...God, I dunno what really happened." he ran a hand thru his shaggy hair and admitted, "You'd have to really be like me to get what I mean. It wasn't like I _planned _it or anything, but more like it just sorta happened...I guess I'd always sorta liked him like that, but I'd never thought of doing that kinda thing to him..."

This only confused to Toki more. He relaxed in Gunther's arms and pressed, "So what happens?"

"We kissed."

"You-"

"Just like this." he made Toki look up at him, then pressed his lips to the Norwegian's for an instant. He didn't pry, didn't demand more than was necessary, only gave him a short, tender kiss then broke away. Toki was dumbstruck.

He shook himself and asked in a shy, worried whisper, "Cans we do that?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't we?"

"Because..." his voice trailed off with the sudden recognition that he'd actually _liked _being kissed by another boy. All at once he felt himself overcome with a kind of heated desire that he'd never felt before, and he was hugging Gunther very tightly, unsure of how to continue. He'd never been kissed before in his life.

"What? You act like nobody's ever...wait, you're not really like Pickles says, right?" Bekker held Toki close and whispered in his ear, "You've been with someone before, right?"

He didn't answer. Instead he hid his face and asked, "What happens next?"

"Whadda mean?"

"With you and Pickle—what did you dos next?"

"Oh yeah, that." Gunther glanced up and down the halls to make sure that nobody was about to walk past them. They building was surprisingly deserted—nobody really ever chose to spend their visiting time in their rooms. After making sure they were totally alone, he slipped his hands up Toki's shirt, felt his muscled torso; the Norwegian's body became rigid under his fingers. "We made out."

"Pickle kissed you? But you ams-"

"I know. We did some other stuff too, but I can't tell you that."

Toki looked up at him. "Whys not?"

Gunther grinned and said smartly, "Too much for your little virgin-ears. C'mon, get up." he rose to his feet and then helped the Norwegian do the same. Once they were both standing, Gunther pushed Toki against the wall, kissed him again, then took his hand. "Where's the nearest flight of stairs?"

"Just a littles farther down the hall...why?"

" 'Cause I can't tell you, but I can _show _you."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Wonderful, naked lies. For Pickles that's always what came after sex. When Jen insisted that he hold her and promise her that they'd always be together, that he loved her, that he never had anyone else on his mind, he lied then pushed her away and got out of bed. He pulled on his pants and instructed, "Hey, bitch, put an some fuckin' clothes."

Jen raised her head and asked moodily, "Why? I can stay all night."

"No, 'cause I don't wanna leave Toki alone with Gunter too lang."

She rolled her eyes. "So we're really not gonna do anything else?"

Pickles asked in frustration, "What else did you think we were gonna do? I already came, so what else do you think I _can _do?"

"One-trick pony." she mumbled sarcastically.

"Yeah, one who chooses to fuck you, Gad knows why." he went out of the room and slammed the door. He knew he probably looked like hell, but he didn't care. He smelled like sex, sweat, and Jen's perfume, but he could care less about this, too. As he made his way down the hall all he could find the energy to care about was Toki. He wondered where he was, if he was okay, if Gunther had managed to get to him. Probably not. Toki was smart, he wasn't stupid. He was-

"What the _fuck?" _Pickles cried when he rounded the corner and saw that there, under the stairs, Gunther was kissing Toki, running his hands up the Norwegian's shirt, and laughing. Without giving a second thought to whether or not he'd get in trouble, he went up to Gunther and pulled him by his hair away from Toki. "You prick! I really can't leave you alone, can I?"

"You took _forever _with Jen." he said jokingly.

So that was it, this was a game to him? Pickles gritted his teeth and hissed, "You think this is _funny?"_

Gunther peered over to Toki and shrugged. "Yeah, pretty funny to me."

"I'll kill you!" he really meant it, and just as he went to swing, something held him back. Toki had gotten up, wrapped his arms around Pickles' waist, and was hugging him, crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorrys, I'm sorry!"

"What?" he asked, astonished. "Are you cryin'? Get aff of me!" but he didn't make a move to pry Toki away from him; instead he put his arms around the Norwegian and held him close. "S'okay," he said. "I don't know what's wrong, but s'okay..."

"Oh, so _that's _it." Gunther spoke up, coolly putting his hands in his pockets. Pickles turned to him, but didn't let Toki go.

"What's it? What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

Gunther's eyes glowed with a kind of knowing threat as he repeated quietly,_ "That's it."_

"Whats it?"

"You and him."

"Me and him what?" of course he knew what Gunther was getting at, and he had to use every bit of resistance in him to not beat the hell out of the other boy right then.

Bekker said nothing, and this finally prompted Pickles to get Toki off of him. He punched Gunther in the mouth as hard a she could. "I fuckin' hate you! I can't believe I wanted to see you!" he hit the other teenager again and again, until he stopped moving. Toki stared at this display with wide, teary eyes.

"P-Pickle, ams this my fault?"

"No." he said, wiping his former best friend's blood off of his hands. "No it's nat."

" 'Cause I didn't means it, and I didn't believe anything he tolds me about how you-" he cut himself off and his face paled. "Nevers mind." Pickles was panting as he stood up. He was dizzy, tired, and totally spent. Still, he was perfectly happy with what he'd done.

"What'd he tell you about me?"

"Nothings."

"Spit it out. S'nat like I can beat him up no more, anyways."

"He saids-"

From down the hall there came the sound of footsteps. Pickles fell back against the wall and cursed.

"Shit! I don't need this, I don't need this, I don't-"

Jen was there, and so was an entire audience of onlookers. The redhead narrowed his eyes at her and demanded, "Jen, what the fuck did you do 'dis for? You _told?"_

"Well you weren't back and I was tired of waiting." she said curtly, putting her hands on her hips. "Besides, I was worried about Toki. I was afraid that were gonna beat the shit out of him, too."

"Why would I do 'dat?"

"Why do you do anything you do, Pickles?" she asked inquired coolly, moving aside so a group of teachers could assess the situation. "Just to feel better about yourself."


	6. Chapter 6::Say Goodbye

_**CHAPTER 6: SAY GOODBYE**_

"I'm sorry, I'm so fuckin'-"

"It ams fine." Toki said tiredly. The two sat in the main office along with about a dozen others, most witnesses to their predicament from earlier. They'd been locked in that office for three hours now, and still there was no sign of getting out. Gunther and Jen were talking to the headmaster, probably telling him every detail about what had happened. The thought of this made Pickles squirm. Gunther had finally managed to get up after about thirty minutes, and he'd been pissed—he never been able to take a hit. Jen had knelt over him, pressed her fine, slender little hand to his forehead and cried, "Gunther Bekker? Gunther, are you okay? Oh my God, he's dead!"

"He ain't dead, you stupid little bitch!" Pickles had howled, pushing her away. "The prick just don't know how to fight!"

Now, as the two walked out of the principal's office, Toki shifted a little closer in his seat to Pickles. Gunther saw this, but didn't care. He still planted himself next to the Norwegian and rested a hand on his thigh. Pickles glared at him for this, but knew that if he opened his mouth he'd probably get into deeper trouble, so he held his tongue. Toki just yawned, rested his head gently against the redhead's shoulder, then closed his eyes.

"I ams so tired."

"S'fine." he responded in a nearly inaudible voice. "Go to sleep if you want to."

Toki let out an exhausted little, "I can'ts, I'm too scareds."

"Of what?"

"They ams goings to call our parents and tells them about what happened."

Pickles' heart dropped. "T-They can't do that, nat to me. My mom and dad's all the way in Wisconsin. They'd never—"

"My dads ams going to kill me, he reallys will."

"No he won't." he laid his arm security around Toki's shoulders and pulled him into an awkward embrace. "Just be quiet and go to sleep, alright?"

"Heya, Toki?" Gunther called in a quiet, cautious voice. The Norwegian peered over at him and gave him a sleepy smile.

"Heys."

"You doing okay? I'm sorry that-"

"Shut up!" Pickles demanded, giving the other boy a spiteful look.

"Pickles, don't talk to Beck like that." Jen instructed coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra and had on a skimpy pair of pajama shorts that had the words _PINK _on the back of them. Her shirt was a tight one without sleeves. The redhead tried to let all of this overcome him like it had before, take away all of his anger, but it didn't work. She just didn't do anything for him anymore. This thought scared him, made him want to cry. He'd have to find a new girl, a new slut to fuck...

"Hey, Jen, you—uh..." for some reason he could barley find the capability to speak. He was so _tired. _"Would you mind shuttin' the fuck up about shit that you don't understand."

"Undertsand?" she asked angrily. "What don't I understand, you fucking little prick?"

"That he doesn't like you anymore." Gunther broke in, smiling confidently down at Toki. "In fact, he doesn't even like girls anymore, so why don't you just-"

"Are you calling me a fag?" Pickles asked hatefully.

Bekker shrugged and said, clearly not taken aback by the other teenager's anger, "Maybe so—you haven't done anything to prove me wrong, so-"

"I'll fucking _kill _you!" he hissed, making a move to get up. Toki latched onto him and pulled him back down into his seat, a terrified look on his pale face.

"Don'ts."

"But he-"

"_Don't! _Just shuts the fuck up and sits back down!"

There was a long period of silence, one in which Pickles sat down moodily, laid a hand protectively on Toki's knee, and glared at Gunther. Bekker, on the other hand, let his hand creep back up the Norwegian's thigh and rest there; occasionally his slender fingers would venture a little higher until Toki shifted in discomfort and leaned a little closer to the redhead. Finally they were released from the office and told to return to their room. Pickles was relieved as he lead Toki out of the office and down the hallway. Unfortunately, Gunther and Jen followed him, unsure of what to do next.

"So," Bekker said awkwardly, keeping pace with his best friend. "some night, huh? Almost like that one last year at prom when you-"

"Don't you get it?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at the other teenager. Gunther seemed oblivious.

"Get what?"

"We're nat cool anymore. I don't even wanna look at your stupid face." he took Toki's hand and lead him on. "C'mon, we're leavin'."

"Buts-"

"Wait! You can't keep me from talking to Toki!" Gunther protested, taking hold of the Norwegian's arm and pulling him away from Pickles. "I wanna tell him bye."

"No way!" the redhead cried, pushing Bekker away. "You don't get it, do you? You're nat ever gonna see him again, never-"

"Damn it, I'll see him when I wanna see him!" he yelled, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I'll see him if I wanna, and you can go to hell!"

"You really-" he'd never seen Gunther like this before, not in their several years of friendship. It scared him, so he backed away and fell into Jen's warm embrace. Sure, he'd let the two say their little goodbyes, but only because he felt as though Toki needed some closure. All the while he was kissing Jen, he was watching how Gunther took the Norwegian's hand and kissed it, how affectionately he spoke to him.

"You're not gonna forget me, huh?" Bekker asked tearfully, pulling Toki into a tight hug.

"N-Nos...I don't really gets what ams happening, though."

"I gotta leave—we can't stay here no more. I'm sorry I got you into so much trouble."

The Norwegian's pure, pale gaze was cast down to the floor as he ended the hug. Gunther leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and then Pickles broke away from Jen and pushed her to the side. "Okay, 'dat's it. You got your goodbyes, so just fuck aff, alright? Don't bother calling, either, 'cause I won't answer."

"Go fuck yourself." Bekker responded scornfully as he and Jen turned and walked away. Jen waved, but Pickles didn't wave back. She was dead to him—he felt nothing when he was with her. Toki watched Bekker go with something of sadness in his eyes before following the redhead up the stairs to their room.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Things between them were eerily silent. Too quiet, too awkward. As they climbed into their separate beds, Toki dared to do something he'd never done before—he removed his shirt. Pickles watched him and swallowed. "Are you-"

"I hates sleeping in clothes." he mumbled, throwing the shirt to the ground. He was too sad, too exhausted to care about anything anymore. He just wanted to slip into the warm covers of his bed and go to sleep.

"I'm sorry." Pickles said, running a hand thru his greasy orange hair. He'd forgotten to take a shower that day. "S'my fault, I know, but I just couldn't stand it, watching him...he's a dick, you shouldn't be with someone like that."

"But you were, so what ams the problem?"

His face reddened. "What are you talkin' about? I never-"

Toki rolled his eyes, snapped his fingers, and called, "Faaaaaang! Fang, you can comes out, now." the young wolf came hurrying out from a pile of dirty, wrinkled clothes in the corner of the room. He hopped up onto the Norwegian's bed and made himself at home there.

Pickles didn't allow himself to be distracted by this; he insisted, "What do you mean by that? We were never together. I'm nat gay."

"Ja you ams—well, you _was, _anyways."

His face filled with worry. "Whadda mean?"

"He tolds me."

"Oh...Gad, I didn't..." Pickles swallowed and, unable to think of how to continue, he threw the covers over himself and hid his face, trying to hide his complete and utter shame. "He took advantage of me." he said at last, "And I just thought that he'd do the same to you, that's all. I wanted to help you." in all honesty, he knew quite well that there had been no taking advantage of as far as he and Gunther were concerned. Back during that hot summer day so many years ago, he'd wanted it almost as badly as the other boy. He'd wanted to experiment and he'd wanted Bekker to be the one who he did it with...he'd never imagined that he'd like it so much. He felt Toki's eyes boring into him, so he turned to face him. The Norwegian's face was understanding, knowing. It seemed as though he could read all of the redhead's thoughts and was sympathizing with him.

"He didn'ts takes advantage of me."

This only disturbed Pickles more. "So you _wanted _it?"

He took a moment to think then shrugged. "Did I wants someone to kiss me? Ja, I dids. Did I wants it to be him? Wells...no, but he was goods enough."

"Good enough?" he repeated disgustedly. "Dude, you couldn't have liked it...right?"

Toki nodded and said bluntly, "Ja, I dids if you really wants to know. I loved it, and I'm glad it happened. I just wish it hads been with someone else..."

"But you're..." Pickles shook his head and fell back onto his bed. "No fuckin' way, nat with _him..."_

"I'ms what?" the Norwegian inquired curiously.

"In love?"

Toki laughed at this and shook his head. "Nos, I don't really know what that ams like. I've never really loved anyones."

"Nat ever?"

"Nots ever."

"Oh." he smiled to himself. If Toki wasn't in love with Gunther, then everything was okay again. Pickles flashed the Norwegian a grin and asked, "Hey, dude?"

"Ja?"

"G'night."

"Ja, goodnights."

Pickles switched off the lamp and laid his head down. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come; minutes, hours...it never came. Finally he sat up, turned on the light, and stared at Toki, who was also lying awake. "Hey, you can't sleep, huh?"

He shook his head. "Nos."

"Wanna see somethin' cool?"

"Sures." he sat up, let the covers fall from his naked torso.

Pickles went over and sat on the floor. He picked up the acoustic guitar that Gunther had brought him. With a sneer he said, "Fuck it, I told him to bring me the electric...oh well, s'good enough, I guess. Okay, ready?" he asked Toki. The Norwegian nodded and started to pet Fang, who was watching the redhead happily. Pickles strummed the strings, ran his fingers up and down the neck of the acoustic. He began to play the first few seconds of _Sweet Child O' Mine, _and Toki looked amazed.

"You wrotes that?"

He laughed. "No, I wish—then I'd be a fuckin' millionaire."

"How you knows how to play that so goods? Your hands, they moves so good..." he watched Pickles' fingers skillfully pluck and pull at the guitar strings. "It looks easy. Cans I try?"

He laughed and motioned for him to come over. "Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out."

Toki climbed out of bed, grabbed the guitar, and sat down. Pickles took the Norwegian's hands in his own and ran his thumb along the palm. "They're soft—you can't play too much or they'll get blisters."

"Okays." he smiled sweetly. "Teach me?"

"Sure, look—like 'dis." he positioned the other teenager's fingers into the right places then whispered, "Just play."

"Plays what?"

"Anything."

"Okays." he messily began strumming, stopped, repositioned his fingers, then resumed. After about a two minutes of this he quit and passed the acoustic back to Pickles with a moody sigh. "It ams impossible."

"Nah, look." he started playing _Sweet Child 'O Mine _once more, only this time he locked eyes with Toki and sang the lyrics. His voice was soft, determined, and absolutely dedicated. In his heart he meant it, and he felt his face burning as he sang gently, "He—she's got a smile that it seems to me reminds me of childhood memories where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky..."

_Now and then when I see her face  
>She takes me away to that special place<br>And if I'd stare too long  
>I'd probably break down and cry <em>

_Sweet child o' mine  
>Sweet love of mine <em>

"That ams a really, really pretty songs, Pickle."

_She's got eyes of the bluest skies  
>As if they thought of rain<br>I hate to look into those eyes  
>And see an ounce of pain<br>Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place  
>Where as a child I'd hide<br>And pray for the thunder  
>And the rain<br>To quietly pass me by..._

He caught himself leaning in a little closer to Toki and abruptly stopped. He threw down the guitar and laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, and 'dat's pretty much it. Nothin' to it, really. I could teach you how to play."

"Reallys? I wants to learn how to plays that! It ams beautiful!"

He knew he was blushing like an idiot—and his voice was cracking with nervousness, so he knew he must sound like one, too—but this didn't stop him from pulling Toki into a hug and saying, "Yeah, you—it is."

"I ams what?"

"You're...ah...gonna learn it." _You're fuckin' beautiful..._

"Thanks, Pickle."

"Yep, sure thing. Any time." he ended the hug, gave Fang a kiss atop his furry head, and quickly climbed into bed. He felt horrible, sick, and burning hot with something...what was it? Love, lust, and desire...he closed his eyes and all he could see was Toki shirtless playing that guitar. Sweet, sweet child—sweet child that was _his. _

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

A few days later they found themselves sitting in the principal's office again, this time with their parents looming above them. As soon as Pickles saw that his family had actually bothered to show up, he asked, completely astonished, "What the fuck are you doin' here? You came from Wiscansin just to yell at me?"

His mother was silent, but his father wasn't. "Shut up, son." he growled, narrowing his eyes at his boy. Meanwhile Toki just swallowed and hastily took a seat. He peered up at his father and gave him a timid, sweet little smile.

"_Hei, far."_

The man just gave his son a cold, hateful look and responded quietly, _"Være stille, idiot."_

Toki grew silent and bowed his head in submission. Pickles leaned over and whispered to him, "What'd he just say? Did he call you an idiot?"

His father's hand struck him hard on the cheek, and he immediately grew silent. Still the Norwegian didn't look up, he just bit his lower lip in fear and his eyes began to water. _"Jeg er lei," _he whispered to himself, _"Jeg er lai."_

In a moment the principal entered the room, a grave look on his face. He'd explained the situation to Pickles' parents as soon as they'd arrived, but Toki's parents were unaware of their son's trouble, so they were told the news. All the while Toki shifted and squirmed in his seat, his face full of fear at his father's reaction. His pale eyes were fixated upon his father, and with every word and question uttered in Norwegian, his fate grew more absolute. Pickles began to worry about this—the other teenager's parents didn't seem to be as bad as his, but clearly Toki was terrified. Without realizing what he was doing, he rested a hand gently on the Norwegians knee and gave him a little smile. Seth noticed this and pointed it out.

"Ma, look! Pickles is touching another boy! He's-"

His mother gasped and pulled them away from each other. "Pickles, don't do that! My God, his parents will think you're some kind of-"

"Queer." his father completed, giving his son a look of detest.

Pickles opened his mouth to say something, but he noted that he already tasted blood from when his father had hit him a moment ago, so he decided to quit while he was still able to stand. Instead of being angry he focused his attentions on someone who really needed them—Toki. The Norwegian was now fully sobbing as his father yelled at him. "_Hva handler dette om, Toki? Jeg sendte deg her for at du skal bedre, ikke for deg til å være ulydig reglene!"_

"_Jeg er lai!" _he sobbed, trying to hide his sorrow from the others in the room.

His father gave him a sharp slap and hissed, _"Opphøre gråten. Du er pinlig selv."_

"I'm sorry!" he yelled, hiding his face in his hands. "I didn't means it!"

"Lay off of him!" Pickles finally yelled at the Norwegian's parents. "He didn't do anything bad, so just leave him alone!"

"Please," Pickles' father hurried to explain to Toki's parents, "excuse my son's horrible, detestable manners; we didn't raise him this way."

"Fuck yeah, you did!" he protested.

"I'm sure that your son hasn't meant to cause trouble," the redhead's father continued, "in fact, I'm sure that it was _my son _who's made most of the trouble here."

Toki's father arched a brow and repeated, "Your son?" he glanced at his wife, who shook her head. "No," he said in English, "my son's fault. He's always been this way, always been bad. I suppose that we haven't disciplined him the right way."

"Dads, I didn't mean-"

"Silence!" Toki's father cried, glaring at his son. Pickles watched this display with a sickened look on his face.

"Fuck you, you stupid, old-"

"Pickles!" his mother gasped. "Apologize!"

"No, 'cause he's wrong! Toki didn't do anything, it was my fault."

Seth grinned at him. He seemed to be enjoying this. "Really? Then who's fault was it?"

"Mine! I made stupid Jen and Bekker come down here. I was the one who kicked Toki outta the room with Bekker so I could fuck Jen."

"If I may say something-" the principal interrupted, sitting down behind his desk. He crossed his arms and stared at the two families for a while before suggesting, "Obviously whatever the situation may be, these two boys have possibly broken every single school rule there is. Therefore it is my duty to say-"

"That ams not fair!" Toki cried, sniffling and holding back his tears. "You've never wanteds me here, nobody has, and now you ams going to gets rid of me just because you don'ts likes me! This ams bullshit!"

His parents gasped and his father struck him sharply and said, _"Se hva du sier, gutt!"_

He lowered his head and said shyly, "Sorry, dads."

"Yes, well," the principal resumed calmly, smiling at the Norwegian's embarrassment, "I think that it would be in both the student's best interests if they were to either be separated immediately or taken out of this school completely."

"But you can't do 'dat! You can't just separate us!" Pickles cried. This very idea made his blood run cold; he couldn't survive a second if Toki wasn't there making him laugh. Thankfully, the Norwegian's parents agreed on this as well.

"Perhaps we should try something else." Toki's father suggested. "Something not as drastic..."

Pickles and Toki were then let out of the office while the adults worked out a punishment for them. Once away from his family, Pickles exclaimed, "Can you believe that shit! They can't separate us! That's so fuckin' stupid, right?" he glanced over and saw that Toki's face was pale and full of fear. Gently he nudged the other boy and asked tentatively, "Right, Toki?"

He shook his head and whispered, "Nos, not rights..." then he leaned against the wall and slowly sat down onto the floor. Pickles just frowned down at him and tapped him with the toe of his sneaker.

"Hey, dude, you okay? What's wrong?"

"My dad," he answered, burying his face in his hands. "he ams going to makes me go home with him, I just knows it."

"He can't do 'dat!" Pickles protested, trying to help him back up. Toki just gave him a sad look, a _what do you care _kind of look, and so he smiled and said confidently, "I won't let him do that."

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Later they sat in their room. Pickles was trying to learn a little bit of Norwegian from Toki; in exchange for guitar lessons, the other teenager had promised to teach him the fine points of the native language. Things weren't going that well at all. Fang hopped around the room rambunctiously—he'd grown quite a bit already, and was almost always hungry. Like now, when Toki paused the lesson, dug a candy bar out of his jacket, and threw it over to the young wolf, the pup still wasn't satisfied. He nipped at his masters' fingers and whined. Only when he was ignored fully did he cease this and creep into a pile of old, dirty clothes for a nap. Toki said patiently to Pickles, "It ams not hard, really—Norwegian ams easy to learn."

"Well, I don't get it."

"I don't gets how to play guitar, but you say it ams easy."

"Because it _is!"_

He smiled. "And this ams easy too, just listen. _Jeg elsker deg."_

"Fuck it," Pickles said, shaking his head in defeat. "I can't say it like 'dat—you say it so good, so smooth and stuff. I'd never be able to do that, never."

He repeated tirelessly, _"Jeg elsker deg."_

"What does it even mean?" the redhead inquired, feeling frustration creep up on him. "I bet it's just your way of callin' me a jackass."

"I loves you." Toki said, looking away. He turned his attention to fang, picked up the wolf from the pile of clothes, then patted him on his head. "Don't sleep there; it ams gross."

Pickles watched him with a look of confusion on his face. "I love you? Oh..." his voice trailed off and in a moment the Norwegian was facing him, a grave expression on his face.

"They ams going to take me away." he said sadly, sitting down on the floor next to Pickles. The other teenager gave him a clueless look.

"Whadda mean?"

"My parents—they always do this when I gets in bad trouble. They take me outs of school for a few weeks then makes me go back home, works my ass off, and they—well, nevers mind." he hugged his knees to his chest and said dully, "I hates going home."

"Then don't go."

"I haves to or I'll get in even mores trouble. What abouts you?" he asked, his interest peaking. "What abouts your parents? They seem okay."

Pickles scoffed at this. "Yeah, right. They suck." he paused and then added solemnly, "Y'know, at home I don't got a name."

Toki frowned at this. "Whats you mean? Sure you dos, you ams Pickle."

"No," he shook his head and sighed, "I mean that nobody really calls me that. They all just push me around and say, 'Hey, Seth's brother,' or something like that. I'm really nobody."

"So you likes it here?"

He thought about it and ultimately nodded. "Yeah, I guess so—s'long as you're here. This place wouldn't be anything without you."

Toki grinned. He seemed almost validated by these words, as though all of his past actions were now made good. Shyly he began twisting some of his hair around his fingers then said, "If it makes you feels better, I don't really haves a name either, no matter where I gos. I'm nobody here or at my house—I'm just nothing."

"Nah, you're nat like me." Pickles said, nudging the Norwegian gently and giving him an affectionate smile. "You're not stupid, one day you're gonna do something. Me—people like me—just get sent to jail by the time they're eighteen. I'm-"

"Pickle!" suddenly Toki was sobbing. He latched onto the redhead and didn't let go. "Don't lets them send me back, _please! _I hates it at my house, they ams so mean to me!"

"Then don't go! Stay here with me." Slowly his hands traveled down and held Toki's. He didn't know what he meant to do by this, so he quickly pulled away from the other boy and stopped. Instead he decided to say, "You can always be with me—I mean _here..." With me. _He thought, turning red. Toki was trembling so violently that Pickles actually became scared. He hugged him closer and, without quite realizing what he was doing, he buried his face in the Norwegian's hair and inhaled. All at once the crying stopped and Toki pulled away from him, a curious look on his tear-stained face.

"Pickle, was you just sniffings me?"

"Huh?" he shook his head quickly. "N-No."

The Norwegian wasn't convinced. "Ja, I thinks you were."

"I think you're wrang!"

"Buts-"

"Goodnight." he said abruptly, rising to his feet and marching over to his bed. He slipped into the covers and then switched off the lamp. There was a short moment of silence before he heard Toki's footsteps approaching his bed; suddenly they stopped, and he felt a warm hand touching his cheek. He blinked. "Toki?"

"I'm sorrys."

"For what?"

A pause, then, "I really don'ts knows."

He nodded and pulled the covers up to his chin. "G'night, Toki."

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Pickles was awoken early the next morning by the agonized shouts of, "Fuck! _Dum ulv! Holde fremdeles!" _He sat straight up in his bed and, without taking a moment to even rub the sleep from his eyes, he was on his feet stumbling towards the bathroom. Mainly he did this to see if Toki was okay—he also had to piss. He discovered the Norwegian bent over the bathtub giving Fang a shower. Pickles ran a hand thru his messy hair and arched a brow.

"What time is it?"

"I don'ts know—six? Fang!" he snapped, hitting the young wolf sharply on the nose. "Don'ts you dare try to jump out of this fuckings tub again!"

"Oh." he stretched and scratched at his chest. It was only now that he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt, only a pair of worn, torn, and stained jeans. He didn't even think he had underwear on. "Heya, can't you hurry up? I gatta piss."

"What do you wants me to do?" Toki demanded, rinsing some soap from his hands. "He ams almost clean."

Pickles let out a tired groan. "I need to _piss!"_

"Holds it, then!"

"Fuck that! I'm pissin'." he went over to the toilet, raised the lid, and unzipped his pants. "Huh," he said offhandedly, "No underwear..."

Toki just patiently continued to bathe fang. He drenched the pup in water and, when it tried to bite his hand, he wheeled back and almost fell. "Fang! Don'ts do that!"

Meanwhile Pickles made an odd discovery. He was hard, unbelievably hard. It wasn't just a normal kind of hard, either, it was a _need-to-fuck-something-right-_now kind of hard. He sighed and zipped his pants back up. "Yeah...I don't think I need to piss no more."

Toki ignored him and started gently humming to Fang in an attempt to calm him down. The redhead took this as an opportunity to exit the room. Once he was out, he went and hid back under his covers. "Stupid fuckin' dick..." he mumbled, laying back down. He was full of need like he'd been when Jen had been here. No, this desire was stronger. I was the insatiable need for something else, something...Norwegian? He licked his lips and smiled. Norwegian—yes, that was _nice. _He himself didn't realize just why his mind jumped to Norwegian until Toki came out of the bathroom ringing out his shirt, soaking wet, and, in some places, bleeding.

"H-He bit you?" Pickes asked, his voice shaking absurdly. Toki glanced over at him and nodded.

"Ja, and scratched." he went to get another shirt, and for the first time the redhead could make out an endless array of scratches and scars on his back. He bit his lower lip.

"You...you gonna get cleaned up then come with me and get some food?"

"No." he said sadly. "Actuallys I can't."

"Why nat?"

"My parents—they ams picking me up today at eight."

"What?" his heart seemed to freeze in his chest. All at once his horniness disappeared into worry and sadness as he watched Toki slip into a clean shirt. "Don't do 'dat." he said, hurrying to his feet and lifting the shirt away from the Norwegian's back. "You'll get blood on it, idiot."

"Whatever." he said gloomily, letting out a sigh.

"Here, come see." Pickles lead the Norwegian over to his bed where he lifted up the shirt. Toki quickly tried to cover himself and his scars, but the redhead wouldn't let him do this. "Don't! You can't get bloodstains outta clothes, you fuckin' idiot!"

"You shouldn'ts see all of thats." he mumbled dejectedly, looking down. "Nobody ams supposed to sees that."

"Shut up." he tried to wipe the blood away from Toki's sensitive, fair skin, not caring in the slightest if he stained his own clothes or hands. The Norwegian shifted in discomfort at this, but very gradually he let Pickles remove his shirt and investigate the rest of his body for scratches.

"This ams stupid." he murmured meekly, hugging himself.

"You trying to give that fuckin' animal a bath was stupid. He scratched the hell out of you." Pickles said snappishly, wiping off some more blood. Toki jumped and let out a hiss of pain. The redhead placed his hand gently atop the burning cut and apologized.

"It ams fine." he said, trying to hide the embarrassment on his face. "I really don't wants to go." he admitted at last. Pickles nodded.

"I know, but you gotta. Besides, you'll be back, right?" when no answer came, he stopped what he was doing and made Toki turn to face him. He repeated fearfully, "You'll be back, right?"

"I..." his eyes filled with tears as he shrugged. "I don'ts really know, Pickle." he began to break down all over again. "I don't know what ams going to happen, but you ams my best friend, and-"

"What?" he asked, wiping the Norwegian's blood off on his own shirt. "I'm really your best friend?"

Toki nodded and glanced over at him, his pale blue eyes shining with admiration. "At least I _thinks _you ams—aren't you, Pickle? We ams friends, right?"

Pickles knew that his face must be turning as red as his hair, but he didn't care. Clearly Toki didn't care either, so he nodded and said without hesitation, "Yeah, we're friends."

"Best friends, right, Pickle?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "sure."

"Then you won'ts forgets about me when I'm gone?"

He laughed at this and shook his head. "Nah, never."

"Good, 'cause I won'ts forget abouts you."

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A few hours later, Pickles grabbed Toki, pulled him into a tight embrace, and said to him, "I'm gonna be here when you get back, alright?"

He nodded. "Ja, okays."

"I'll..." he didn't quite know what to say. He'd never really been good at transferring his emotions into words—he'd never had to before, but around Toki things seemed so much easier. With little trouble he was able to say, "I'll miss you so fuckin' much."

"I'll miss yous too, Pickle."

"I..." now this was the hard part. Something was biting to be let out, to be put out into the open, to escape his lips; he knew what it was and yet he did not know, he didn't want to accept it. Who was he kidding? When he was with Toki things were twice as difficult. The Norwegian made him so nervous that he wanted to just turn and walk away forever, but something inside of him—the something that was fighting to be let out—wouldn't let him do this, so he just gave the other teenager a quick tap on the shoulder and said, "Good luck."

Toki walked away, his head held low, tears shining in his beautifully pale eyes. Pickles turned and left right then, unable to contain his emotions any longer. He was out in the open yard of the school, and everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to lose it. He didn't; instead he just walked quickly back up to his room, slammed the door, and then began throwing everything within reach against the wall. Fang emerged from a fortress of crumpled clothes at the foot of Toki's bed and cocked his head to the side—he stared at the human's strange emotional breakdown with something of half amusement, half concern in his yellow eyes. He knew better than to try and distract Pickles from his problems by nipping at him or yelping—he himself might be hurt, so he sat. Silently and motionlessly he sat and watched.

"Fuck this stupid, useless shit!" Pickles cried, falling to his knees. Everything in him was spent up, his energy drained from his tantrum. Now he was left to lay in the middle of the room, hot, panting, and crying. Cautiously Fang got up and went over to him. The young wolf rubbed its furry tail against the redhead's cheek and licked at his salty tears. Pickles swatted him away and closed his eyes. "Leave me alone. Why can't the whole fuckin' world just _leave me alone?"_

Once he got tired of laying there on the floor, Pickles worked up the strength to undress and throw himself into bed. Then, with only his old jeans on, did he manage to fall asleep. Once again, like so many times before, he was alone, and he was nothing.

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He woke up, took a shower, and drowned himself in the wonderful, soothing hot water. Without realizing it, he was whistling _Sweet Child 'O Mine, _and when the hot water ran out and the shampoo was washed out of his hair, he threw back the shower curtain and sat on the edge of the tub. His red hair dripping with water, he dry himself off. He didn't realize it, but slowly the bathroom door opened. Toki was standing there in the doorway, his hands behind his back. He wore his _AC/DC _shirt with a pair of those ripped and tattered jeans that Pickles loved. His long hair was messy, indicating that he'd just woken up. Pickles didn't mind the fact that he was naked, he just laid the towel over his lap and gave the Norwegian a smile.

"I love you." he said boldly. "Gad, I fuckin' love you."

Toki walked over, knelt down, and allowed Pickles to wrap his arms around him and pull him close into a hug. "I loves you too, Pickle." he fingered the towel that was covering the redhead's lap and tugged at it. Slowly, so tantalizingly slowly, he removed the towel. Although his pale eyes were bright with curiosity, he didn't hesitate to boldly take Pickles' cock into his mouth. _Oh God. _He was on fire, burning up from the invisible force that was driving him to push Toki's mouth over more of his erection.

The realization that he actually did love Toki was a startling one, and immediately as he whispered it again, he gasped and awoke. Once awake, Pickles looked around the room, panting, praying that any second the Norwegian would come and ask him if he was okay, like he'd always done before. 'Ams you okay, Pickle? Did you haves a bad dream?' but these hopes were wasted, because in a moment he remembered that he was alone. Only Fang was with him, and the young wolf was lying on Toki's bed, sadly licking the sheets. Pickles realized that he was alone, abandoned, and totally devoid of hope. He collapsed into his bed and covered his face with a pillow. Without restraint, he let out a loud, agonized scream, and he heard Fang respond with a sorrowful howl.

It was as if the whole world knew of their loss—Toki was gone. He might not come back, and Pickles had lost the best friend he'd ever had in his life all because he was too selfish to follow the rules._ He didn't even do anything, it's _my _fault, _he thought, shutting his eyes and throwing the pillow across the room. It was his fault, everything, and now he'd never see Toki again.

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****A/N****

**I'm certainly not updating as fast as I used too...oh well, I've been putting off publishing this chapter for a few days now, although I don't really know why. Bleh, whatever. Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are appreciated. **


	7. Chapter 7::Back Home Again

_**CHAPTER 7: BACK HOME AGAIN**_

He didn't bother to go to class; he just couldn't do it, just like he couldn't take Fang outside alone, like he couldn't bare to go to breakfast alone, like he couldn't bare to be just _alone. _He knew that he was hungry, but he didn't care. Exiting this room would mean suicide as far as he was concerned, so without restraint he laid in the room all day, opened the bag of food Gunther had brought him, and found himself a bottle of whiskey. The shit tasted like bitter hell and burned his throat, but Pickles didn't care. He drank nearly half the bottle before passing out on the floor. He was exhausted, half drunk, and filled with sorrow. The mere notion that he couldn't survive without Toki being near him made him sick to the point where he felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. The only thing that stopped him was Fang.

The young wolf nipped at his jeans, jumped up and nearly tackled him to the ground. He was growing quickly now, and Pickles wasn't sure if Toki would be back in time before he let him go back into the forest. Surely they couldn't raise him forever. He was already beginning to show signs of dominance, like now how he pinned the redhead to the ground and dangerously tried to bite the back of his neck. "Get aff, you fuckin' mutt!" Pickles howled, punching the wolf in the nose. Fang recoiled and let out a growl, then started running around in circles around him. "What's wrang with you?"

Another growl and the young wolf was slamming itself into the door, desperately whimpering. _Out, out! _He thought, biting the door knob. _Let me out! I want to run, I want to kill something...kill a wild rabbit, a mouse, ANYTHING. I need to KILL._

"You wanna go an a walk?" Pickles suggested. Fang stopped his insistent growling and howled in affirmation. The redhead rolled his eyes, put a jacket over his shirtless chest, then sighed. "Fine, let's get outta here."

Although Fang was growing rapidly, Pickles was still just barley able to hold him in his arms as they walked. There was nobody outside—they were all in class. He smiled at this. _Nobody's _ever _outside—I like that, _he thought, petting Fang's ears. They walked on. It wasn't as snowy as usual and the air was a little warmer. Summer was quickly approaching, making its mark by melting the ice and thawing out the forests. Once they were at the edge of the treeline, Pickles let Fang jump from his arms and sprint into the trees. He glanced back over his shoulder, saw a pair of boys approaching him, and cursed. He was in no mood to deal with anyone else today, not after the events of the day before. Thankfully Fang was already deep into the woods by the time the two finally managed to catch up to him. They smiled at each other, said something in Norwegian, then glared down at Pickles. Until now he'd never realized how short he was, but as the two loomed above him he suddenly realized just how small and insignificant he actually seemed to be.

"Where's Toki?" one of them demanded. Pickles shrugged and dug his hands deep down in his pockets.

"He really left, huh?"

Another shrug and a small, meek, "I dunno."

"Yeah you do, now tell us."

"Maybe," Pickles said, glaring at them, "it's none of your business."

One of the boys hit him, and he just fell back, didn't even bother to defend himself. Sure, he got the shit beat out of him, but as he dragged himself and Fang back up to their room, it wasn't like he cared. His body was screaming out in agony, and surely it was the worst pain he'd ever felt—even worse than the time he'd broken a few ribs and nearly severed his spine in a car accident. He remembered this as he limped up the stairs. Gunther had been driving his dad's truck and of course they'd been drunk out of their mind. The look on his face after they crashed was unforgettable.

"Dude, I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry..." he'd said once they'd gotten to the hospital.

Pickles sighed and came back to the present; he snapped his fingers and motioned for Fang to hurry up. The wolf, seeing that its master was hurt, didn't hesitate to keep up with him. Fang pressed his cool, damp nose into Pickles' hand. He smiled, closed his eyes, and thought of Toki.

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"I wanna die," he mumbled to himself, watching the blood run from his nose down into his open hand. The kids had nearly broken his nose. Without much thought, dead to the world around him, he repeated, "I wanna die..." He might as well just die right now if he'd never get to see Toki again. That kid meant so damn much to him, although he didn't exactly know why. He just knew that he really did feel something for the Norwegian, something deep, something foregin to him. He swallowed and stuck his tongue out, licked some of the trailing blood as it dripped down his face. It tasted like metal, coppery and disgusting, and so he wiped the rest of it off on his jacket, not caring if the fabric got stained with it. He didn't care about much of anything anymore. Tomorrow he'd go to class and try to pay attention, but he knew that he'd get in trouble. What was the point?

Still, the next morning he woke up, drug himself to class, and got sent straight to detention where he immediately laid his head down on his cool desk and closed his eyes. The teacher who was watching him noticed his behavior and snapped, "No sleeping. Do some work for once."

So he did; he got out a crumpled piece of paper, a pen, and began to scribble on it what he used to always scribble before—_hate, _and _fuck the world, _but somehow this all morphed into, _love, Toki, _and lyrics from _Sweet Child 'O Mine. _Without realizing it he was writing down page after page of things, random words, all about the Norwegian.

_Beautiful, amazing, funny, sweet, nice. Eyes like blue diamonds, hair like copper sunshine. Perfect, flawless face...doesn't deserve this...he doesn't deserve his life...he deserves better..._

He continued on in this fashion for the next few weeks, and every time he was released from detention he'd go straight to his room to sulk and drink. He'd get beaten by other teenagers nearly every day until it got so bad that he was actually used to walking with a limp. Once he actually thought that he'd broken his arm, but within a few days the purple and blue bruises, along with the swelling, had disappeared, so he'd chalked it up to nothing but a nasty sprain. Fang didn't make things easier for him—he was constantly trying to attain dominance over the room whenever he could, and when he saw that Pickles was weak he'd take advantage of this moment and bite him until he bled and cried.

"You fuckin' bitch, quit it!" he'd scream, kicking the half-grown wolf. "Leave me alone!" When things couldn't get worse, when the only thing keeping him tethered to this world was the dim hope that Toki might come back, things only continued to spiral downhill.

One day he was called into the counselor's office. "Take a seat, if you please." the counselor said politely, motioning to a chair. Pickles sat down in the stupid office and glared moodily at the floor. Suddenly he felt as though he was right back at home, having a family dinner with his parents. "So," the counselor continued after a moment of note-taking, "Your teachers told me that you've been having some problems lately. Would you agree with that?"

"No." he answered, grinning to himself. Fuck this, he'd make this guy _earn _his pay. He'd been to therapists before and all they really did was lead you in the direction that they wanted you to go in. They'd twist your answers to ensure that they heard what they wanted, and this idiot was no different. His answer, however, clearly didn't satisfy the man. He frowned deeply and wrote down some more notes.

"Uh-huh. I've heard that you've gotten into a lot of fights, Pickles." he cleared his throat and said, as if it were some big, huge secret, "I've heard that you _hurt _people." He couldn't hold back his laughter, and in a moment the counselor was glaring at him. "Do you think that hurting people is funny?"

Oddly, the laughter was immediately wiped away from the redhead's face once he heard this statement. He straightened up in his seat and said boldly, "I wouldn't hurt people if they didn't hurt me." he didn't mean to sound so weak, so submissive, but he couldn't help it. He'd never talked to anything except a wolf in weeks, and the isolation was beginning to get to him. He wished more than ever that Toki was here right now to console him. He wasn't though, so Pickles continued. "I fuckin' hate everyone else..."

"So you don't care about anyone else, is that what you mean?" the counselor asked. Little did he know that in reality, the teenager wasn't actually talking to _him, _but more to Toki in spirit. That was the only way that he was able to voice his emotions at all.

"No, I don't care about anyo-" he stopped himself. That was what he would've said if he were still in Wisconsin, if all of this hadn't happened, but now it was a lie. He revised his statement. "Yeah, one person."

"Yourself?"

"No," he shook his head and smiled bitterly. "not me at all, not anymore."

"Then who?" he pried. Pickles looked up. He decided that he'd had enough of this; in an instant he was walking out the door, a smug look on his face.

"I think that's all the therapy I really need right now. Have a good fuckin' afternoon."

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Because he'd given the counselor so much grief, he was given detention for the rest of the month, so for the next several weeks there he sat in an old, uncomfortable desk in a small, cramped room under the constant scrutiny of a teacher who hated him. In those weeks he learned to entertain himself—he'd spend most of his days in the room trying to sleep. One day, as he entered the detention room and made his usual sleep-spot by pushing several desks together, he decided that this was it. He was tired of just sitting around wasting his time, he'd do something tomorrow that would ensure his expulsion from this hellhole. He went to sleep feeling oddly satisfied. Soon he'd be free, and all of the idiots at this school could spend eternity rotting in the deepest, most miserable circle of Hell.

Much later something woke him up—his feet were pushed off of the desk they'd been resting on. Pickles awoke with a jump and said before thinking, "Hey, what's the big idea, you stupid fuckin' idiot? I'll kill y—Toki?" he was so amazed that he just sat there, his eyes wide. "Y-You're _back?"_

He motioned meekly to the desk and asked, "Do you minds if I sit down?"

"What? No, look-" he removed his feet from the desk, dusted it off, then pulled it closer to himself. "Siddown."

"Thanks." he took his seat, ignoring the glare he was getting from the teacher. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, each one trying to think of what to say, until finally Pickles gave up and he threw his arms around the Norwegian and pulled him into an impossibly tight embrace.

"I missed you, dude."

"Uh..." he seemed to be shocked by this reaction. "Okays. I missed you toos."

"Excuse me." the teacher interrupted, throwing the book he'd been reading down onto his desk. "Would the two of you please stop talking? This is detention, after all. You—what's your name?" he pointed to the Norwegian.

"Toki."

"Fine, then you—Toki-move all the way over there."

His face fell as he got up and gathered up his stuff. Pickles protested, "But 'dat's all the way on the other side of the fuckin' roo-"

"Did I ask for your opinion on the matter?" the teacher snapped, picking up his book and resuming his reading. Toki moved wordlessly and when he was in his new desk, he turned to Pickles and frowned. _This sucks. _He seemed to say. The redhead nodded and rolled his eyes. He dug a piece of paper out of his book sack and wrote:

_Why are you in here anyway? Who gave you detention?_

He glanced over at the teacher, then threw it with all his might over to Toki. It flew and landed on the other teenager's desk. He picked it up, read it, wrote back, then threw it over to Pickles. _One of my teachers said I was talking too much and gave me detention for the rest of the month. _

He sneered at this. Toki was stuck in here for the rest of the month—and it was only the third—and he himself would be out in a matter of days. That was no good. He had to be with him one way or another, so without thinking he took out three other pieces of paper, rolled them up into a ball, then launched it at the teacher. It collided with his face, knocking his glasses sideways; a look of annoyance came upon his face. Toki couldn't help but to laugh aloud and smile at Pickles. The redhead just sat in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest, looking quite proud of himself.

"Which one of you was it?" his voice was so full of vengeful anger that Toki's laughter ceased and he glanced at Pickles.

"It was me." the redhead blurted out, grinning.

The teacher narrowed his eyes at Pickles. "Do you want to be stuck in here for another week? That's what's about to happ-"

"I don't care, fuck you." That was it. Did this seal it? No, not quite. The man just readjusted his glasses and sighed tirelessly.

"You are on thin ice, boy. One more interruption, and I'll make sure that you're sitting in this room for the next month."

Silence filled the room until Pickles dared to rise up from his seat and declare, "I gotta go piss—can I go to the bathroom?"

The teacher didn't even look up from his book, just waved him off and said, "Yes, yes, but you only get a minute."

"But the bathroom's on the floor _upstairs—_it'll take us a minute just to walk there."

"Then walk fast, and there will be no 'us'. Only one person goes at a time, that's the rule."

Pickles motioned for Toki to follow him out the door, which he did without hesitation. They exited the room silently—so silently that the teacher didn't even notice that it was two of them that were leaving. Once out of the classroom, the redhead pushed the Norwegian against the wall and embraced him again. To his surprise, now Toki hugged him back tightly, and for a moment it seemed as though he wouldn't let go.

"I reallys did miss you a lots, you know."

"I know."

He began shaking, and Pickles pulled him even closer. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

A pause, then, "I really don'ts know, but sometimes likes now I just don't know whats to say...I'm sorrys."

He ended the hug and gave Toki a broad smile. "S'fine, dude, I get it. You know what we're gonna do now?"

He shook his head. "No, whats?"

"We're not goin' back." he answered, guiding the Norwegian away from the detention room.

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He and Toki spent the next thirty minutes or so walking around the school, dodging teachers, and then finally making their way out into the school yard to their bench. There they sat down and waited. Both knew that they couldn't hide from detention forever, so they didn't make it a point to act particularly sneaky. Instead they sat and they talked. Toki leaned heavily against Pickles and gave him a smile. It was only now that the redhead realized that a black bruise ringed his friend's left eye. He frowned and, without thinking, reached out and traced it lightly with his index finger. Toki reeled back, a look of shock on his face, and became pale.

"You gat a black eye." he observed.

He nodded. "Ja, sos do you."

Pickles arched a brow. "I do?"

Toki indicated his right eye and said, "Ja, you gots one right heres." there was a pause before he dared to ask, "The other peoples here, they've been beating you ups, huh?"

He laughed and shook his head. Maybe if the Norwegian believed his lie, he would too. "Nah, course nat. You know that nobody can beat me up. What about you, though? Who gave you _that?"_ gently he pressed his hand to it. "It looks like somebody hurt you."

"Nos, they-"

" 'Cause, y'know, if you wanted me to I could kill them."

His blue eyes grew wide and he quickly shook his head and cried, "Nos, don'ts! Please just forgets abouts it, it ams no big-"

"What's _this?" _Pickles interrupted, taking Toki's hand. For an instant the Norwegian's sleeve had risen up to the wrist, revealing a ring of dark bruises and scabbed cuts. Before there could be protest, he yanked up the sleeve of the jacket and observed the swollen, blackened skin. The whole arm of the teenager was bruised and slit, and as soon as he was able to, Toki raced to draw his sleeve over his injuries, his face red.

"You weren't supposed to sees that."

"What happ-"

"It ams none of your business."

"But-"Just as he opened his mouth to respond and apologize, a voice called their names from far away. They both turned and weren't surprised to see their teacher hurrying towards them, his face red with fury.

"You two—back to class _now!"_

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Two minutes later they were both sitting on opposite sides of the detention room being closely monitored by the teacher. "You, what's your name?" he demanded.

The teacher pointed at Pickles, who just rolled his eyes and growled, "Pickles."

"You have detention for the rest of the month."

His heart skipped a beat as he smiled victoriously and glanced over at Toki. The Norwegian didn't smile back, but instead frowned down at his desk. After about an hour of sitting in silence Pickles decided that enough was enough, he needed to know what was wrong, needed to apologize, so he scribbled a quick note of, _What did I do? _Then threw it quickly over to Toki. The other teenager quit reading his book—_The Catcher in the Rye, _like always—picked it up, carefully unfolded it, and read it. He tossed it back to Pickles.

_Nothing. I'm not mad._

He wrote back, _Then what the fuck's wrong?_

_I'm scared._

As soon as Pickles read this he arched a brow. So, Toki was scared? Of what he had to know, so he repeated the cycle with the message of, _Scared of what?_

_What he'll do._

_What are you talking about?_

_My dad—I'm scared of what he'll do if he finds out that you know._

He got out another piece of paper and scrawled,_ Your dad? So HE did that to you?_

The response was Toki shyly writing down in small, nearly unreadable words, _Maybe._

Pickles read this and felt anger rising inside of him. He could just remember when he himself had beaten Toki, and how sad and pleading the Norwegian had been. Now his dad was doing the same thing? It made him feel sick, the thought that someone else might be living thru the same kind of thing that the himself had to put up with at home. He felt like crying then, especially as memories of his father and the beatings that he'd received came to him. He scribbled on the paper heedlessly, _I'll kill him. _Then passed it back over to Toki. The Norwegian read it, let his face grow pale and a little smile come across his face. Pickles could hardly believe it—he was _smiling _at this? Then, as Toki met his gaze and he got a glimpse of the emotion reflecting his endlessly pale, shining eyes, everything became clear.

He wanted his father to die, too.

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Pickles watched Toki wrestle and play with a now bigger and fiercer fang, laughing and rolling around in his pajamas—no shirt and surprisingly tight, skinny jeans. He swallowed and tried not to look at the Norwegian's ass as he moved around on the floor and teased the young wolf. Eventually his willpower failed him and he was left to sit on his bed shirtless and tired thinking back to the dream he'd had of Toki weeks ago. He also remembered what he'd said in that dream so clearly and boldly—_I love you, dude. _

"He can't stay here forever." he said, snapping back into reality as Toki was pushed onto the ground by Fang. "He's getting too big, and he eats too much."

"Ja, he bites too. See?" the Norwegian indicated where the young wolf had gnawed on his arm—blunt teeth marks tattooed him in various places, all slowly oozing blood. Pickles grimaced at this and got up to help Toki to his feet. "Ams you thinking...well..." he stared into the redhead's blazingly passionate, green eyes and sighed. Yes, he knew what they had to do. "It ams time?"

"Yeah," he said, gently nodding. "it is, dude."

And so they both gathered up Fang—it took both of them to ensure that the young wolf was calmed down enough to take out of the room—and made their way outside into the trees surrounding the school. Once that had been done, Toki knelt down in the dirt and wrapped his arms around the wolf's neck, buried his face in it's midnight-colored fur. Fang's yellow, glowing eyes shimmered with confusion as the Norwegian whispered into his ear, "You needs to leave now, or we'll gets in trouble. You're just too bigs, too grown ups."

"Toki, dude-" Pickles laid a hand carefully on the other teenager's bare shoulder and sat down next to him. "S' fine, he's gonna be alright." then he turned to Fang and gently rapped his nose like he used to do when the wolf had been a mere puppy; the animal jumped back a little and yelped. "You're gonna be good, right?"

Fang just bit at his neck and locked his jaws around the redhead's throat loosely, in a petty display of power. His grip wasn't so loose to allow escape, but it wasn't dangerously tight, either, just enough to keep Pickles on the ground for a moment or two. Toki's eyes grew wide, but this assault only lasted for about a minute before Fang was backing off, licking his lips. The Norwegian sat by Pickles' side and tapped his shoulder. "Hey, ams you-"

"That stupid prick." he sat up, rubbed at his throat. He was bleeding slightly. He reached to his left, picked up a stone, and launched it at the wild animal. "Hey, go! We're done! Hope you have a good life!" they watched him turn and run off, his tongue flying out of his mouth, his tail wagging insanely. Once he had left Toki dared to lean against Pickles and rest his head on his shoulder.

"Will he be okay?"

"Yeah," he immediately responded, "of course he'll be okay. He'll prob'ly go and get himself a girl, I bet."

He looked up at him. "Reallys?"

He nodded and scooted a little closer to Toki. They sat there for quite a whil, listening to the sounds of the woods around them, staring up at the crescent moon, thinking of much bigger things than just themselves. Pickles smiled up at the starry sky, placed a hand on Toki's leg, and sighed happily. He finally felt okay—thrilled, actually. Thrilled to just be able to feel someone next to him that he genuinely cared about. He wanted to push Toki onto the ground, into the leaves of the forest floor, to feel him and kiss him everywhere; no inch of skin would be unexplored. He wanted to taste him, to kiss with so much lust that he would be able to feel himself losing control...he wanted, he wanted...

"I wanna go to bed." he whispered, pushing these thoughts away. No, he wasn't like that. He cared for the other teenager, but that was it. They were just friends, best friends, nothing more. They would never be—then again, hadn't the Norwegian enjoyed kissing Gunther, who was another boy? If he was open to it then surely there was a chance...no, absolutely not. Toki was the exact opposite of Pickles—innocent, patient, kind, caring, and above all a virgin. He was still pure, still untouched by any other human. Nobody had explored or known him yet, or even laid in the same bed with him, and Pickles had no desire to do any of this.

He helped Toki to his feet and, before he could take a step, the teenager had pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry." was all he could say. "I'm sorrys, I'm-"

"For what?"

"I...I don'ts-" he pulled away, gave Pickles a timid smile, and repeated mindlessly, "I'm so sorrys."

He just shrugged this off and responded with an indifferent, "Yeah, right, whatever." which really meant, _I'm sorry, too. _

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"I don't wants to sleep alone again tonight." Toki announced as he watched Pickles climb into bed. He was standing by the door, his hands in his pockets as he requested sheepishly, "Can you sleeps with me?"

Pickles' mind filled with exceedingly filthy, delicious images—_Will you sleeps with me? _Yes, he certainly would—but he pushed these mental pictures away and shook his head. "Nah, no way. Your bed ain't big enough and neither is mine."

"Can't we push thems together, then?"

He frowned in thought. This wasn't a bad idea. Without hesitation he jumped out of his bed and pushed it into the center of the room, then he helped Toki do the same. Once that was done, they both climbed gratefully into their now huge bed and smiled at each other. Pickles leaned over and switched off the lamp. In the silver light that came in thru the open window, he could just see the dim outline of Toki's face, and he resisted the urge to kiss him right there. Although he leaned in closer to him, parted his lips slightly, and reached out, he was able to recover and abruptly stop himself.

"You...uh..." he honestly couldn't think of what to say for the first time in his life, so he just laughed awkwardly and pulled the covers up to his chin. Toki watched him, his pale eyes seeming to glow in the moon's light. The pale shine of the night sky seemed to embrace the Norwegian, make his features stand out like never before. Suddenly Pickles could see just how beautiful he actually was—a perfect face, skin so amazingly fair and smooth that it was almost a sin, and hair that possessed a coppery luster. His eyes were illuminated in the moon's light, brought to life by the affection that shimmered inside of them. They were drops of liquid blue fire, shards of pale sapphire, so bright and perfect. Pickles felt himself blushing and so he rolled over and said, "G'night, Toki. I really did miss you."

"Pickle?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Can I tells you something?"

"Huh?"

"Gunther—I really didn't likes it when he kissed me, you knows."

He turned to face Toki again, a brow arched in confusion. "Huh? Whadda mean you didn't like it."

"I means," Toki was red, clearly embarrassed that he'd even brought it up. "I liked the kiss, but not the fact that it was with hims. I don't likes _him, _I guess that ams what I mean."

"Who do you like, then?"

He said nothing, only looked away and admitted, "He saids stuff that I've never really heards before—nobody's ever talked to me likes that. It made me feel..."

"What?" He rubbed his eyes, tried to vanquish the sleep that was threatening to overtake him.

Toki sighed and explained hopelessly, "I don'ts know, just forgets about it."

"No, I won't." Pickles persisted. "What did he say 'dat you liked so much?" His mouth was nearly watering. He needed to know, he _had _to know. On the other hand, he didn't want to pry too much, because that would mean making the other teenager even more ashamed. He became much softer as he reached out and laid his hand on Toki's arm gently. "You don't gotta say if you don't want, it's okay. I-"

"He saids he wanteds to fuck me—he wanted to just throw me down on the floor rights there in the hall, makes me get naked and suck his dick."

"W-Wow..." he swallowed. It took nearly everything he had in him to hide the anger he was feeling towards Gunther Bekker right now. He would kill him too, the next chance he got. Nobody should speak to Toki like that, not unless it was _him_.

The Norwegian met Pickles' gaze and inquired in such innocence that it made the other teenager's heart melt, "I don't really gets half of what he said, though; I wish he'd done it kinds of, just so I still wouldn'ts be a virgin."

"Bein' a virgin's nat a bad thing, dude."

"But I wants to be like you." he said, smiling at Pickles charmingly.

"No," he disagreed, shaking his head, "please don't try to be like me."

He looked puzzled as he asked, "But whys not?"

" 'Cause I told you before—I'm nobody."

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A few days later, Toki was called out of detention. He was told to go to the office, that there was something important he had to hear. The day passed by slowly, but finally Pickles was let out of detention. He went back to his room and awaited his friend's return. Finally the Norwegian entered the room, a sullen look on his face. He turned to the redhead and said glumly, "My dads wants me to go home _agains."_

"Again?" Pickles asked incredulously. "But why?"

"Hols-iday." he responded with a shrug. He went and plopped down onto their joined bed and closed his eyes. "I really don't wants to go..."

"I'll go with you this time."

He laughed at this. "Pickle, you can'ts do that!"

"Why nat?" He challenged.

"Because," Toki gave him an uncharacteristically serious look and explained, "my dads would be really mad if you came with me. Besides, I can handles this on my own. I-"

"Don't really care," Pickles retorted. "I'm comin' with you, so get over it and stop bitching."

They stared at each other for a long while before the Norwegian confessed, "It woulds be nice if you were there, and it would only be for a few days ats the most..."

"I'll be good." the redhead swore.

Toki finally agreed, "Sure you cans come, just don't beat anyone ups, okay?"

He grinned. "Can't make no promises, dude."

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A few weeks later they were walking in the crowded streets of Lillehammer. "So," Pickles said thoughtfully, looking around the small town square. "this is where you grew up—nice place."

Toki said darkly, "You haven't seen my house yets."

"Is it bad?"

He cringed. "Horrible. Comes on, let's just g-"

"_Hei, _Toki!" a voice called from behind them. Pickles and Toki turned and were both surprised to see two teenagers, probably both no older than seventeen, hurrying towards them, grinning broadly. Once they reached the two, one of the boys said to Toki, _"Hei, lite _Toki."

His face grew red as he responded shamefully, "Ja, heys, Alrek." he let the boy punch him lightly in the stomach before trying to push past him and continue walking.

Pickles caught him and asked cluelessly, "What's goin' an? Who are they?"

He stared at the ground as the two boys went up to him and lightly began hitting him, teasing him. "My cousins Alrek and Askel."

"Oh." he watched Toki's face redden with fury as he snapped at the two brothers, "Leaves me alone! Why ams you even here?"

Alrek was the one who spoke; he glanced over at his twin brother and announced, "Your father, little _jævel."_

"What does 'dat mean?" Pickles inquired, glaring at Alrek. Clearly Toki didn't like him or his brother, which meant that he didn't like them either. Besides that, they kept calling their cousin that word. What was it? _Jævel. _What did that mean?

The other brother, who looked exactly like Alrek, laughed and punched Pickles' shoulder. "Who are you? Aslaug didn't say that Toki would be bringing any guests—he made Anja only cook for five."

"Fives? You ams not staying for supper, are you?" Toki asked nervously. Askel nodded and smiled down at his younger cousin.

"Ja, and now that you hads to go and bring a stupid American to our house, we have to tell your mom to cook for someone else. Your dad won't be very happy, _jævel."_

He sighed. "You two really don't haves to stay—I didn't tell Pickle abouts you yet."

"What's there to tell? He's clearly your little boyfriend and we're-"

"Your cousins." Askel completed his brother's thought before laughing.

Pickles reddened and snapped irritably, "Shut up, assholes."

"You know," Alrek said, ignoring his young cousin's protests, "we always knew that Toki wasn't straight—he always had that stupid, pale skin, like he wore makeup."

"And his hair has always been _so long." _Askel continued his brother's joke, punching his cousin in the back when he wasn't looking. "Not to mention-"

"-those tight, queer-boy jeans of his. He wears them all the time. What about you, does he wear them for you?" Alrek inquired innocently, grinning down at Pickles.

"No," he began, "he's nat-"

"Oh, and he never grew right, either." Askel added as an afterthought. "He's so damn _small _and _scrawny..."_

"Shut up!" the redhead finally managed to cut in. "Just shut-"

"They don't knows the meaning of shuttings up, Pickle." Toki informed him. This was proven true; as the twins lead them thru the town and to the home of Toki's father, they continued on and on about their little cousin.

"I saw him wearing lipstick once." Askel said, laughing at his cousin's quickly reddening face.

"It wasn'ts lipstick, it was-"

"He acts like a girl, too." Alrek interrupted. Eventually the two brothers just ended up strolling ahead of Pickles and Toki, caught up in their little embarrassing game. Once they were far enough away to talk, Pickles elbowed the Norwegian and said supportively, "It's gonna be fine. This place ain't so bad. It's actually kinda-"

"I hates it here." he said sadly, looking down at the snow as they walked. "I just wants to go home—I mean, backs to school, where I belong." then he peered up ahead at his two cousins. In many ways they appeared to look almost exactly like him—long, light brown hair, blue eyes, and pale skin, but to Pickles they still didn't come close to matching their cousin's beauty. Toki was fairer, had more class than either of them put together. Suddenly the Norwegian broke the silence by saying, "They always tease me, every times I come home to visit." _I hate them, _he seemed to want to say. The redhead understood this and nodded.

He reached around and pulled Toki close. "Yeah, I know."

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******A/N******

****And it's time again for me to define Norwegian names. ******_**Alrek—**_******All-powerful, ruler of all; ******_**Askel—**_******meaning divine...kettle. Yeah, divine kettle. Okay, honestly I put a lot of thought into Alrek's name, but Askel just sounded cool to me. I think it may've been because it reminds of me Skol vodka for some reason, which is absolutely delicious...more to the point, there's only one chapter left to this story. Yay! Finally it's over, right? And...I have another one coming up. Yes, ******_**another **_******one. ****

****Oh yeah, and ******_** jævel **_******means bastard in Norwegian, just so you know.****


	8. Chapter 8::Relief

_**CHAPTER 8: RELIEF **_

Awkward was the only way to properly describe the meeting of Toki's parents. Pickles was courteous enough, or at least he tried to be, but this proved to be a formidable challenge against the likes of the twins Askel and Alrek. They continued to antagonize their cousin even as they all met up in the kitchen with Anja and Aslaug. _"Hei, far. Det er godt å være hjemme." _Toki said, ignoring his cousins jests.

Askel went over to one of the chairs that were around the small, wooden kitchen table, and sat down leisurely. Oddly enough the two brothers seemed to be more comfortable in the house than Toki himself. That's why Alrek had no problem saying in his native tongue, _"Ja, Aslaug, den __jævel er hjem."_

Aslaug's face remained stony and emotionless, but Askel laughed. "Ja, and he brought a stupid-looking friend." Toki's father only now seemed to take note of Pickles' presence; he addressed his son, who was standing awkwardly in the center of the small room.

"_Du brakt en gjest?" _he demanded, narrowing his eyes at his son.

The Norwegian bowed his head and said, _"Ja, han er min venn." _Now Pickles wished desperately that he was able to understand the language, but he had learned enough from school to gather little bits of the conversation. It was nothing unexpected—Toki's dad was being a heartless bastard, like he probably always was, and Askel and Alrek were continuing to tease their cousin. Although this made him infuriated, he knew that the best thing for him to do was be to stand there and behave himself, so he did. Toki just pulled him close and said in English, "He ams my best friend, dad."

He glanced over at the American and shook his head. "Son," he said, "I will say this in _his _language-" he spat the world 'his' out hatefully, "-so that your 'guest' fully understands the punishment he's given you."

"But dads, I-"

"Don't go easy on him, uncle!" Alrek bellowed from over in his corner.

Aslaug ignored this insistent chanting and said to Toki, "Tomorrow you'll spend the day in the kitchen making dinner for when I come back from church, and during the night you'll do all of your daytime chores double-time, do you understand?"

Toki looked down at the floor, submitted instantly to his father's will. "Ja, dads, I understands."

"And there will be no slacking or I'll punish you."

He nodded. "Yes sir."

Askel let out a cheer and got up. He went over to his younger cousin and punched him hard in the shoulder, making him let out a whimper of pain. Aslaug frowned at this and snapped at his son, "Don't be so weak! We have no patience for that here."

By this point Pickles was biting his tongue not to say anything that might worsen his friend's punishment, but he found this hard, nearly impossible. As Toki lead him out of the room and up the narrow flight of squeaky stairs that lead to his bedroom, he could feel his hands shaking with the effort of not hitting something—a wall, anything. Finally they completed that seemingly endless trek up the stairs and came to a battered, crooked wooden door. "This," Toki said, indicating the door, "ams it—my whole stupids life pretty much happened here." and he opened up the door and allowed Pickles to venture inside.

It wasn't as bad as he'd thought—for all he could imagine, the Norwegian's harsh parents had him sleeping on a bed of straw, but there was a thin mattress lying in the middle of the cozy room, just barley big enough for one person. He frowned and went over, fingered the thin, wispy covers that were haphazardly strewn about the floor. It was then, as he looked around and saw the pure minimalism of the room, that he actually realized just how fortunate he himself was to have a good bed to sleep on with actual pillows. Toki's bedroom had no television, only a beat-up old stereo that wasn't even plugged into the wall. C.D.s were lying on the floor, scattered in all different directions, some safe in their cracked, see-thru plastic cases, but most just collecting dust on the cold wooden floor. He read the titles of some—they were mostly odd, foreign names, but some American ones, too.

_Nirvana, the Beastie Boys, Iron Maiden, Alice In Chains, _and _Soundgarden. _He walked around the tight, cramped room, observed every little detail, right down to the scratches and paint-chips in the wall. There were stains upon the peeling, white wallpaper. Black ones, as if someone had dumped a bucket of paint on the wall; he glanced over at Toki and grinned. "S'nice, I like i-"

"Don'ts lie." he said, ashamed of his living arrangements. "Nots even _I _likes my room, so why woulds you?"

"'Cause it's...well, I can't explain it. I like it 'cause..." _it's YOU. _It was difficult to explain, but in a way Pickles truly did love the cozy room because it was so much like Toki—unselfish, minimal, and also warm and inviting. Despite all of the cracks in the floor and the squeaking planks of wood that he walked over occasionally, he actually liked the place.

Toki clearly didn't understand this, because in a moment he was unpacking his few belongings and saying, "You can just throws your stuff on the bed, I guess. I don'ts really care."

In the end Pickles just ended up throwing his one suitcase full of clothes and, of course, a bottle of whiskey, into a corner; he plopped himself onto Toki's thin, small bed and relaxed on it. He took his shoes and his jacket off and stretched out. "Your dad," he said casually, "he said you gatta stay inside and cook tomorrow. That's not so bad of a job, right?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Nos, nots to us, but to him it ams supposed to be a horribles punishment—women's work." he smirked to himself and sat down next to the redhead. "If you really wants to know the truth, he kind of likes treating me likes I'm a girl—Askel and Alrek tease me abouts it all the time, and he laughs with them."

"Fuck them." he said firmly, shaking his head in disgust. "They're the most miserable fuckers I've ever seen."

"But this ams their house. We're only guests." the Norwegian pointed out.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I guess we are."

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Dinner wasn't any better. Toki got sent to his room for being rude to Askel. "Suts up, you stupids prick!" he finally exploded. His cousins had just been in the middle of mocking him again.

Aslaug seized this opportunity to punish his son—plus Pickles—and had said with gusto, "To bed, the both of you!"

And so they'd gone, just like that. They sat together and talked until the dinnertime chatter that had echoed from downstairs for so long finally died out; after a while slow, steady footsteps replaced the talking. Toki's eyes grew wide and his whole body tensed up. Pickles nudged him and asked worriedly, "Hey, you okay, dude?"

"M-My dads," he whispered, terrified, "he ams coming."

"So what? What's the big d-"

There came a horribly loud knock at the bedroom door, and Toki raced to open it. Once he had, a hand reached in and took his sleeve. "Son, I need to _speak _with you for a moment."

"O-Okays, dad." he followed his father solemnly out of the room. He was lead into the now empty kitchen and made to sit down.

"Listen here," his father began harshly, "you are an idiot to bring that boy here to our home. You didn't even ask permission."

Toki looked away. They were talking in their native language, so he knew that even if their voices traveled upstairs and Pickles heard them, he wouldn't know what they were saying, but still...he felt uneasy as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Wells, I didn't ask because I knew that you'd say no."

"Then why did you bring him?"

"Because he ams-"

"Nothing but a disgusting little Americanized bastard who you're no better than." Aslaug spat out hatefully, lashing out and slapping his son in the face. Toki reeled back, tears in his eyes, but he didn't back down.

He just sniffled and insisted, "He ams my best friend, dad. I-" he stopped himself just short of admitting, _I love him so much._

His father just sneered at this petty display of emotion and said ruthlessly, "He will do chores around here just like you; he will earn his supper and the roof that we put over his head. If he chooses not to or if he does something that I don't like, I will kick him out. Do you understand?"

"Ja, buts-"

"_I said do you understand, you idiot?"_

Toki bit his lip and nodded. "Good," Aslaug continued, turning away from the teenager. "and you'll also account for each and every one of his mistakes—when he messes up, I'll make sure that you pay for it, and trust me, he will make _many _mistakes."

The boy's face paled when he realized the trap that he'd fallen into. There was no turning back, though; if he didn't agree then Pickles would be kicked out and he'd be beaten right then. The least he could do was to give the redhead a good home for a few nights and receive his beatings later, when it was time to pay for his mistakes. Yes, that was okay. At least he'd have someone to confide in...no, that wouldn't do, he decided as he was allowed to go back up to his room. He couldn't let Pickles know just how cruel his father was, because that would place an unnecessary burden on the other teenager. Still, hadn't he told Toki that he'd protect him? No, it wasn't his business, it wasn't his right to know. Toki let out a deep sigh as he went back up to his room. Before opening the door he paused and let out a deep, troubled breath. He couldn't do this. He couldn't let someone else see how he lived, how he'd come to act so pitifully timid and useless...

All at once he felt like crying. It was the only thing he could think to do at that point, but ultimately Pickles himself ruined this plan by opening the door and ushering him in. A look of concern flashed across the redhead's face when he saw what an emotional wreck Toki was, but the Norwegian simply said, "I just wants to go to bed now, please."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

"Wake up, wake up, wake up, you sorry fuckers!" Askel cried as he came into Toki's room early the next morning. He and Alrek began kicking their young cousin in the stomach, trying to awaken him.

"C'mon, little _jævel, _time to wake up and fix us breakfast like the little bitch you are!" When Toki just let out a tired little moan and pulled the covers up to conceal him more, Alrek continued with, "Hey, _jævel, _wake up! Your dad says that you're fixing us food today, so wake u-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Pickles exclaimed, sitting up from his sleeping spot on the floor. He'd let Toki have the bed after their long day yesterday, and as soon as he moved he regretted his decision—he was aching from head to toe. This was only made worse as Askel gave him a deadly look and walked over to him and kicked him lightly in the ribs.

"Hey, American _jævel, _wake Toki up for us and make sure he's down in five minutes to make us breakfast."

"We have to get to work early," Alrek added as he and his twin brother walked blissfully out of the room, "and since Toki's the only bitch in the house, he has to cook today—his dad said so."

Pickles wanted to say something back, but he knew that doing so would be futile and might even get his friend in trouble, so he just gave up and crawled over to where Toki was sleeping. "Hey," he whispered, shaking the other teenager's shoulder lightly, "you gatta get up, dude."

"Whats? Why?" he asked groggily, shaking his head. "I don't _wants _to."

"You gatta make some food, your cousins said so."

He sat up and ran a hand thru his messy hair. Although he still looked quite tired, Pickles still thought he was a welcome—perhaps even beautiful—sight to behold. "I really don't feels like it."

"C'man," Pickles insisted, giving him a charming smile, "do it for me; cook me somethin'?"

Toki stretched, yawned, then pulled the blanket over his naked torso. He rose to his feet slowly and followed the redhead out of the room. "Only fors you, 'cause you ams hungry." he murmured sleepily, walking blindly down the stairs. Once they arrived in the kitchen, Askel greeted them by throwing a raw egg at Toki. It missed him by an inch and splattered against the wall.

Anja, Toki's mother, frowned at them and instructed, "Clean it now-"

"But auntie," Alrek protested, "it was an accident!"

"-Toki." she completed, taking her seat at the small dining room table. She watched as her son drowsily got down on his hands and knees with a towel and mopped up the mess, then went over to the sink and washed his hands.

Pickles just stood by his friend's side, begging to help him. "What can I do? Can I get you somethin'?"

"You can gos sit down." he said, pulling his blanket a little tighter over his bare shoulders. "Otherwise I thinks you'll just makes me mess up."

"Why would I do 'dat?"

Despite his state of exhaustion, he was still able to smile and whisper to him, " 'Cause sometimes you makes me nervous, no just gos sit, please. Try to makes sure that Askel and Alrek leaves me alone."

"You gat it." he went, pushed past Alrek, and took a seat. In a while the Norwegian had successfully managed to cook a full breakfast for the whole family—minus himself. He just didn't have the energy to make himself another omelette, so he just went, poured himself a large cup of black coffee, and sat down across from Pickles. His pale eyes were halfway closed and his hair hung in loose, lifeless strands around his gaunt and exhausted face; he allowed himself to rest his head on his head and, in a pitiful display of weariness, gulp down his scalding coffee without even blowing on it. Askel watched him and laughed joyously.

"Stupid_ jævel, _and just think that tomorrow you get to wake up and do it again!"

Alrek nodded as he quickly devoured his food. "Ja, your dad invited us over for breakfast tomorrow. Isn't that great?"

"Ja," he said dully, taking another sip of his coffee. "greats."

"Hey, Toki?" Askel asked innocently.

His cousin peered up from over the rim of his coffee cup and asked, "Whats?"

"Don't spill." he lashed out, pretended like he was going to hit Toki, and laughed when the Norwegian flinched back and spilled some of the steaming coffee on his bare torso. After that Askel and Alrek finished their food, kissed Anja Wartooth on the cheek, made one last snide comment to Pickles, then left for work, wherever that was. Once they had left, Anja rose to her feet and said, "Toki, your father is out today and he won't be back until tonight."

He nodded and responded, "Ja, sures."

"Do your chores and don't dawdle." she got up and went out into the living room area, where she picked up a book and began reading. Toki finished his coffee and then looked over at Pickles, a small smile on his face.

"He ams not here today—he's gone!"

"That's good?"

"That ams the best thing that could haves happened!" he announced, rising up from his chair. He reached to pick up his friend's plate, but Pickles resisted this and instead picked it—along with the empty coffee cup—up himself and carried them over to the sink.

"Dude, I'm gonna help you, alright? I didn't come just to fuck things up, I wanna help."

He smiled at the redhead and said sweetly, his eyes radiant with affection, "You already haves helped me, Pickle." _More than you'll ever know._

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Somehow Toki managed to fix an elaborate supper and complete all of his outside chores before his father came home. Once Aslaug learned of this he said disapprovingly to his son, who seemed quite proud of himself, "So that's it, then? You're satisfied?"

"Ja, I guess sos."

This earned him a slap in the face and his father's reprimand of, "The mark of a true man is never just being _satisfied—_you must try harder, do more! Go and sweep the house."

He didn't protest, but instead completed this as soon as he could. Unfortunately, this meant that he worked all thru supper, with Pickles right there sweeping by his side. The redhead couldn't stand it; he was starving, he was humiliated, and he was pissed. Toki didn't seem to mind it that much, though. His problem was that he took every little thing anyone said to heart—whenever his father talked to him like that, his eyes would always shine brightly with tears and his face would immediately lose all emotion in favor of an internal battle between his senses of self-loathing and sorrow.

Pickles wondered if anyone else could see this besides him. Either way, it didn't matter because soon he was laying down on the floor of Toki's room in a bundle of blankets, sleeping soundly. The Norwegian himself was outside still doing chores by the time midnight rolled around. He'd told Pickles that it was okay, that he could handle it himself, no, of course it wouldn't take long—thirty minutes, an hour tops. That had been a lie. Now he stood in the darkness of a velvety dark sky, under the neon cover of the full moon, panting with the effort of working so hard.

He could barley breathe he was so exhausted—his stomach ached from lack of food, and every movement he made made his head pound painfully. He tried to ignore the headache, but only got worse until he couldn't take it anymore. There his body finally failed him and he collapsed onto the cold ground and waited for his father to find him. He knew that his father was watching him, that he'd been awaiting for this moment, the moment his son finally fell, to punish him. Toki tried with all of his might to get up when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, but he was just too exhausted. His father's cold hand grasped at his shoulder and shook him hard.

"Toki, are you awake? Toki, get up you miserable idiot."

"I..." he was breathing hard, fighting to stay conscious, "I can't..."

"I said get up!" with one magnificent display of strength, Aslaug hauled his son to his feet and glared down at him. "What is wrong with you? I said that if you wanted your friend to be here, you'd have to stay up tonight and do your chores. Are you stupid, are you deaf? Didn't you understand me when I said-"

"..._breathe," _Toki whispered in agony, fighting back tears, "I can't breathe, I'm so tired."

"Toki," his father said, narrowing his eyes at his son, "you're honestly the most pitiful, worthless person I've ever seen—I don't know why God has cursed me with you, made me feed you, clothe you, keep you warm, but I swear that as long as you live under my rules, you will _not _give into your petty weaknesses. Now, tell me what exactly is wrong."

He knew that he was falling into a hopeless trap, but what could he do? Taking a deep breath, knowing that at any moment it could be his last, the teenager answered, "I'm so hungry, father. I'm tired, too. Can't I please just go inside and sleep for a while?" he thought back to Pickles, to how snug and cozy he'd appeared to be nestled in all of those blankets, and immediately he felt his heart fill with envy. Aslaug just laughed at this and allowed his hands to curl into cold, iron fists.

"Toki," he said, "I will teach you to appreciate what's really important."

"What's that?" he asked fearfully.

"Just the fact that you are alive."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Lust, so fucking hot, so delicious...no matter what, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, there was a passion there, an unyielding, impossible passion and attraction that existed between him and Toki. He knew he wasn't gay, but he couldn't help it—he wanted to kiss him, to slip his tongue into the Norwegian's mouth, to feel every part of him...he wanted to get him naked and panting, begging and crying out in ecstasy as he fucked him...

Pickles smiled in his sleep and let out a moan. He knew it wasn't okay to think of all of these things, much less dream about doing them, but when he was in his own world of nighttime slumber, it was okay, he supposed. It was fine just as long as when he woke up he wasn't still dreaming of doing it. The way he figured it, his attraction to Toki could easily be explained—in short, he wanted to protect the Norwegian in ways that he himself hadn't been protected. Toki was young, he was innocent, much like Pickles had been before he'd found out about the real world and all of its troubles. As long as he could he would protect him from this, the truth of the world. He would-

The door to the small bedroom squeaked open, and immediately woke Pickles from the dream he'd been having. He sat up, scratched his head, and asked, "Hey, who's there? Toki, is 'dat you?"

"Ja," he whispered back, "I-I'm fines." he didn't sound fine. His voice was weak and broken, and as he stumbled into his bed and collapsed, Pickles could hear him panting very heavily. His heart filled with a dull, pounding fear as he went over to the bed and tapped the other teenager's shoulder gently.

"You're nat okay, are you?"

Toki bit his lower lip and shook his head. "N-Nos," he said wearily, "maybe I'ms not..."

"What happened?"

"My dad."

"Oh. Comere, lemme see." Unfortunately the only light in the room was provided by several short, fat candles, so Pickles had to get up, get a couple, then place them next to the Norwegian. He observed in the orange, flickering candlelight the severity of his injuries—marks lined his back, trailed up and down his spine, making gruesome, ruby swirls that almost seemed artistic. The cuts were deep, oozing with blood and staining the sheets of the bed. Pickles' emerald eyes grew wide; he took Toki's hand and asked quietly, "What he'd do, dude?"

"Beats me."

"Why?"

He paused, then finally allowed himself to dissolve into tears. "I-I was tired and I fell."

Pickles didn't say anything else as he placed a careful hand on Toki's back. He felt the stickiness of blood coat his palm and leaned in close to his friend. "S'nat so bad...does it hurt?"

He said nothing, only trembled and continued weeping. The redhead's reaction to this was to finally let his guard down and lay down next to the Norwegian; he carefully wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close. "It's gonna be okay, I swear. We're gonna leave tomorrow, and-"

"It hurts so fuckings bad." he whispered, sniffling. "I've never really saids it before or thought about it—I try to pretend likes it doesn't happen, but it does, and every time I say it doesn't hurt but it does, and Gods, it hurts so damns _bad!" _he resumed his crying, allowed Pickles to run his fingers thru his hair. Just feeling the other boy's touch brought him immense comfort, so he hugged Pickles so close that it was almost painful.

"Dude, I—well, I think that I kinda wanna kiss you," Pickles confessed, swallowing back his nervousness. "And...well," just talking one look at Toki's pure, shining eyes, which where boring into him so horribly made his confidence melt. "If you wanna kiss me back, that would be great, but I'm just gonna—I-I'm gotta kiss you now, okay?"

He said shakily, "O-Okays. I-"

Pickles slowly leaned in, parted his lips, and kissed him, but only for a precious moment before pulling away and then repeating the process. On the third joining of their lips, finally Toki loosened up enough to allow himself to deepen the a few minutes of this experimentation Pickles was on top of him, snaking his tongue into the Norwegian's mouth. To his surprise, the other boy actually began to kiss him back, but ultimately he was the one who pulled away and shook his head. He was blushing horribly and his eyes were full of tears of shame as he confessed, "I don't think that this ams right, Pickle."

He licked his lips and asked quietly, "Why don't you think it's right?" when Toki gave no answer, Pickles let out a sigh and sat up, mumbling to himself, "I know what's wrong—it's _me."_

"No," he hurriedly said, sitting up as well, leaning close against the redhead. "it's just...I've never...don'ts really know how to..."

"Yeah you do." he assured Toki, giving him a little smile. "Trust me, you do."

"Buts how do you know?"

He shrugged. "I just do, now come here for a minute." he pulled the Norwegian closer to him and whispered, "Let's try it again, okay?"

He nodded and breathed, "Okays."

"Kiss me back."

"I-" their lips met again, fused together, and this time Toki did kiss back more than he ever had before. Pickles was taken aback by this, but he didn't let it deter him. Instead he pushed the Norwegian onto the floor and did what he'd wanted to do for so damn long—he touched him. His hair, his hands, his stomach; it was as if everything that he'd been holding in for the past few weeks was finally being let out at that moment, and he almost lost himself in how badly he wanted this to progress, but reality set in. At any moment Aslaug or Anja could walk in, and that would mean more trouble for the Norwegian—more hurt and pain. Pickles couldn't imagine causing him any more of this, so he kissed Toki's cheek and murmured, "I'm not spending the night here."

He gasped. "But Pickle-"

"And neither are you. C'man, we're leaving." when Toki showed no sign of movement, only stared at the him with eyes full of bewilderment, Pickles reached down and took his hand. "You really wanna stay here? Dude, nobody loves you here."

"You..." he seemed to be struggling to take everything in. "..._loves _me?"

Pickles faltered. "Well I—look, I'm not gonna let you stay here with your dad, so come on." The Norwegian rose to his feet and followed the other teenager over to his bedroom window.

"How ams we gonna-"

"You act like I've never suck out of a house before." he said, grinning broadly. In an instant he had the window open and he was peering out at the ground below. "Hmm...that's kinda high."

"Nots that much." he said, leaning out the window. Pickles caught him and pulled him back.

He went first then watched as Toki wriggled out of the window and clumsily fell down to the ground below. Once they were both out, Pickles took the Norwegian's hand and they began walking in the direction of the road that had lead them there. Although neither of them were really sure where Lillehammer was, Toki assured the other teenager that if they followed the road they'd be okay, so they did because the really couldn't think of any other way to get home—back to school.

As they walked in the cool night Toki couldn't help but turn to Pickles and ask meekly, "Do you still wants to kiss me?"

"Huh?" he turned to him, completely stunned by this ridiculous question. "Yeah, of course I-"

"Then you shoulds dos it right now." he suggested, blushing.

Pickles gave him a sly smile. "If you want one so bad, then why don't you kiss me for once?"

"I can'ts."

"Why nat?"

"I just...I can'ts."

"Idiot." he muttered, pulling Toki close. He pressed his lips to the Norwegian's and then said, "You can do that any time you want, alright?"

"Okays."

"Good, now c'mon."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

"I don't wants to go back to school." Toki said once they reached Lillehammer. They now sat on a bench on the sidewalk, and Pickles had been half asleep when his room mate had spoken; he tried to shake his sleepiness away, but this did little good.

"Dude," he said tiredly, "we gotta go back."

"But we can gos somewhere—_anywheres _else, Pickle!"

He shook his head and let his hand fall on the small of Toki's back. He encouraged him to scoot closer, to give him more warmth. "No, 'cause you belong there."

"And wheres do you belongs?"

He thought for a moment. Normally he would've given an immediate response of, 'Nowhere,' but now all he could come up with was, "With you."

Toki snuggled closer to him, hugged him tightly. "So do we haves to-"

"Yeah, we do."

"Buts-"

"Just trust me, it's gonna be okay."

He didn't seem convinced, but he made no further argument as they finished the trip home. Soon they were sitting back in their old dorm room, both staring up at the ceiling. It was an odd thing, but since the kiss nothing much had seemed to change—or at least that's what Pickles thought before the first night they were together. As he watched Toki lay down in their bed shirtless with those damn tight, skinny jeans on, he felt that old desire and lust flaring up inside of him again. Immediately he pulled the Norwegian down onto the bed and began touching him. As his hands ran up the warm skin of the other boy, a little panicked squeak could be heard.

"Pickle, what ams you-"

"Ssh." he whispered, kissing Toki's stomach.

"Buts—that feels _good." _he lost a little bit of his normal shyness as Pickles' hand traveled up his thigh.

"I wanna-" Pickles pressed his lips to the other boy's cheek and began to undo his belt, "-do so many fuckin' things-" he ripped the belt away and unzipped Toki's pants, "-to your hot little body right now."

"Ams you talking about me?" he sat up a little and gave the other teenager a confused look. This made the redhead laugh and push him back down. He kissed him deeply and hotly, made love to his mouth, and when it was over the Norwegian's eyes shined with a whole new understanding. It was as though with every moment he spent with the redhead, Toki was becoming more himself, more confident and purely happy. He smiled then and pulled Pickles into another kiss, one that full of just as much lust as the previous one.

"I loves you." he said, letting Pickles' hands travel lower and lower, down his back and to his ass.

"Mm-hmm." he responded softly, gently nipping at the Norwegian's pale skin. He tasted good, he felt wonderful, so God damn fuckable. Pickles realized that he wanted it more than anything in the world—that he _needed _it right then or he might just die. He couldn't stand just having Toki lying in his arms like this and not at least feeling him come. He cupped Toki's ass, felt the other boy's whole body tense up beneath him, and smiled. "You've gat a nice ass." he accepted the Norwegian's kiss then continued with, "Do you wanna be a virgin forever, 'cause I could fuck you so easy right now."

"I...I don'ts..." he shook his head and tried to pull out of Pickles' embrace. "I can'ts dos it, not tonight. I'm too scared."

"What?" he smiled and felt the Norwegian's ass again. "You think that I'll hurt you?"

"Nos, but-"

"Y'know, there's more than one kinda sex. We could always just do something else..." his hand trailed down to the zipper of his jeans and he tugged at it. At the inquisitive look on Toki's face he repeated with emphasis, _"Something."_

"Likes what?"

"I can't do this," he explained, sitting up and removing his belt. "I can't just sit here and kiss you and fuck with you and—I'm hard."

"I..." he swallowed and blushed. "I ams too, I guess."

"Then lemme suck your dick."

Toki looked astonished that Pickles had even suggested this. "Whats? You wants to—but_ how? _Does it feel good?"

"Lemme show you." he made a move to unclothe the other boy, but Toki squirmed with discomfort so he immediately stopped and backed away from him. "Sorry." he mumbled, sitting up. "I didn't mean it."

"I'ms just not-"

"You don't have to explain, I know." he assured the Norwegian before rising to his feet and stretching. In a second he was making his way over towards the bathroom, already pulling down his pants. Toki frowned at this and got up to follow him.

"What ams you-"

"I'm hard," he explained tirelessly, closing the door in the other teenager's face. "and it won't go away an its own."

"Buts-"

"Just gimme a little while, okay?" he requested kindly, going over and sitting on the edge of the tub. Without thought he pulled down his pants and roughly stroked himself. He would've nearly climaxed right then if the bathroom door hadn't opened up a crack. Pickles' eyes grew wide and he hurriedly covered himself up with the nearest towel. "Toki, what the fuck are you-"

"I was just thinkings and...well..." he walked over, knelt in front of the redhead, and laid his head in his lap. "I'm sorrys."

He was completely stunned by this. "For what?" He just slowly pulled the towel away from the other boy's lap and swallowed; Pickles turned a deep shade of red. "Dude, you don't have to-"

"I knows," he said, smiling up at him. "that ams why I want to dos it." then he raised a hand and carefully began stroking Pickles' cock. "Ams this good?"

He let out a deep sigh and nodded. "Fuck yeah, just like 'dat." He felt himself beginning to lose control, which, for what seemed like his whole life, had been the only thing he'd managed to keep a loose grip on. Now it was being stripped away from him by some kid that was younger than him. It seemed impossible that he would allow anyone to do this to him, but as Toki looked up at him with his piercingly beautiful eyes and asked, "Whats now?" he just smiled down at him and took his erection in his own hands. Slowly he guided it to the Norwegian's lips and whispered, "Suck it a little for me, babe."

"Hows do I-"

"Just _do _it." he encouraged, slipping the head of his dick into Toki's mouth. At first he seemed rather hesitant to do as he had been told, but as Pickles grew harder and stiffer, he sucked in deeper, more forcefully. "Yeah," he urged, placing a hand at the back of the other teenager's head, "just like that...suck it harder." he began thrusting his hips forward, forcing more of himself into Toki's full mouth. The Norwegian just blushed and peered up at him, his mouth stretched and full, his eyes livid with a kind of impossible admiration for Pickles. _I love you, _he seemed to say as his tongue rolled over the head of the redhead's dick, _I love you so fucking much..._

"Toki, I-" he was cut off as a surge of pure, agonizing pleasure ripped thru him. He was left to sit there gripping the Norwegian's shoulders tightly, panting and urging him on. "I'm gonna cum..." he whispered, kissing the top of his head. "I...Gad, I l-" and that was it, as Toki began stroking the underside of his stiff erection, he came. Quickly the Norwegian placed his mouth over the head of Pickles' cock and swallowed all of the liquid desire, hid the evidence forever from anyone else.

He was panting, hugging Toki to him unbelievably tight. "You're amazing." was all he could manage to say. This was it, he was weak with desire, tired of wanting someone so badly, someone that he knew he could never have, but this was it...maybe after tonight Toki would let Pickles have sex with him.

The Norwegian just smiled and said, "So I dids it right?"

"You're perfect."

"You..." he paused before working up the nerve to ask, "you loves me?"

"I...well...sure." Still, even after that he couldn't manage to say those simple words, those words that would bring Toki so much happiness...didn't he deserve happiness? Pickles knew that he did, but still...saying these things was much more complicated in reality. He just sat there and kissed him, let his thoughts roam to what they would do together tomorrow, in detention.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

****A/N****

**Yeah...I lied. Sorry about that. I thought I could really squeeze everything else into this one chapter, but I thought that it would be a little much, a little rushed. After all, Pickles and Toki still _might _have sex, and if I would've put that in this chapter, along with the ending, that might've been pushing it...anyways, hope you liked it. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it. **

**PEACE & LOVE**


	9. Chapter 9::Surrender

_**CHAPTER 9: SURRENDER**_

_Tick, tock, tick, tock. _Pickles let out a loud, bored sigh as he peered up and observed the clock above the door of the detention room. The hands barley seemed to move at all as he stared emptily up at them. All he could think about was getting the hell out of that room and being able to talk to Toki again. He laid his head down on his desk and closed his eyes, tried to make time pass by faster. It didn't help at all. He sat up straight and began rapping his fingers on his desk nervously—he'd never been good at keeping still in one place for very long, not even when he'd been at home. He had to move and run around or he felt like he might die. Distractedly he looked over and saw Toki staring at him, fidgeting excitedly, trying to contain his pent-in energy. _I know, _Pickles thought, giving him a little smile, _I want out too, dude._

The teacher who was looking after them put down the book he'd been reading for the past few hours and glanced over a the clock. To their surprise he got up, picked up his jacket, and walked over to the door. "Just go, it's been long enough. Be in here tomorrow on time."

Pickles arched a brow and asked skeptically, "You're lettin' us leave early?"

He nodded and motioned to the door. "Yeah, and hurry up before I-"

Toki was already out the door by then, and Pickles was quickly following. He caught up to the Norwegian and took his hand as they walked thru the halls. "Whadda wanna do first?"

He shrugged. "I don'ts know. Can't we just-"

"Run around outside? Yeah, sure." Pickles cut him off then started hurrying thru the winding halls until they reached the fresh, crisp outside. Toki arched a brow.

"I never saids I wanted to-"

"Yeah you did."

"Buts-"

"Shut up and run."

He shrugged, indicating just how confused he was about all of this, but in the end he decided that he felt like expelling a little of his energy too, so he followed Pickles into the forest and they, for some odd reason or another, began playing hide-and-seek. They ran around jumping over fallen tree limbs and branches, crunching over dead leaves, and shouting for about two hours before Pickles finally managed to catch up to Toki. "I gat you." he panted, pulling him close.

The Norwegian just grinned and agreed, "Ja, you sures do."

Once they'd worn themselves down enough, they both walked slowly back up to their room. "You knows," Toki commented as he laid down on the bed, "this ams kind of funny—it ams like we're living together."

"We _are _living together, idiot." Pickles said, throwing his book sack down in a corner.

"Nos, I means that it's almost like we're married or somethings."

He turned red. "Oh yeah, you would like that, right?"

The Norwegian shrugged. Clearly he wanted to say yes, but his timidness prevented him from doing so, and the only thing he could say to answer was, "Maybes..."

"Well here-" Pickles went over to his suitcase and dug out the last bottle of whiskey that Gunther had brought for him. He threw it over to Toki and said graciously, "If we're married now, you can have the first drink." he'd never let anyone have the first sip out of a fresh bottle before, but now he didn't care. He just watched as his room mate cautiously unscrewed the cap and stared into the glass bottle.

"Does it taste goods?"

He laughed. "Nah, it's disgusting, but it makes you feel good."

"Oh. Okays, then." he gulped down no more than two sips before throwing the bottle to the side. Pickles rushed to recover it and save the remaining alcohol. Toki began gagging and choking, shuddering in disgust at what had just slipped down his throat.

Pickles took several bold, large sips before capping it and placing it on the table beside the bed. "S'good, huh?"

Toki's allowed a look of utter disgust to come across his face. "No, it ams not good! There ams no way that that stuff can be goods for you, Pickle. I don't think that you should drink it any mores."

He laughed openly at this and reached over; he ran a hand thru Toki's long hair and said, "S'nat bad for you, it's great...c'mere." he pulled the Norwegian close to him and wrapped his arms around the other boy's waist. He let his eyes close for a moment before letting out a blissful sigh. _I love you._

"I...you shouldn't drink sos much."

His eyes popped open and he gave the other boy an inquisitive look. _"What?"_

Toki's eyes shifted; he was pale, shaky, and oddly enough he seemed to be genuinely terrified. "People aren't good when they drink—they hurts me."

"But I won't-"

"Ja you wills. _Everyone _does eventually." he made a move to pull away from the redhead, but was caught and pulled closer into a strong embrace.

"I'm not gonna ever hurt you, I swear."

"Then stops drinking."

He hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I can't. It's in my blood now, I need it...you wouldn't understand."

"No, maybe I wouldn't." he said, attempting to squirm out of the hug. "But I don't likes it. I-"

"Stap trying to get away from me, Gad damn it!" Pickles yelled suddenly, grabbing hold of Toki's skinny wrists. He held them as tightly as he could and made the Norwegian crawl back over to him.

Tears shined in his pale eyes as he asked meekly, "You ams hurting me."

"I'm barley even touching-"

"You ams hurting me!" he was sobbing now and trembling so badly that Pickles lost all of his anger. He released the other boy from his death grip and backed away a little.

"I didn't mean-"

"Nobody ever _means_ it," he sobbed hopelessly, "but it always happens anyways...why does it happens?"

Then suddenly a new kind of understanding came upon Pickles then. This wasn't about him, it was about someone—_something _else. Toki wasn't telling him something important. This made him feel cold inside, almost numb. He had thought that the Norwegian was the open one in the relationship, that he'd trusted him enough to tell him anything and everything, but clearly there were some things that he was holding back. He didn't know quite where to go from here—although Pickles wanted desperately to help Toki, he was afraid to try to touch him again or even sit near him. Clearly the thought of any kind of human contact petrified him, so the redhead just sat there on the bed, watching him cry. He felt himself tear up as a feeling of hopelessness entered his heart. He couldn't help Toki—the one time the Norwegian really needed him, and he could do nothing about it, absolutely nothing.

"Dude, I—I'm sorry. I don't think this is about me, but-"

"It ams about you, don't you gets it?" Toki cried, hugging his knees to his chest. "Everything ams about you!"

"What are you talkin' about?" when no answer came, only more tears, Pickles plucked up his courage and scooted a little closer to Toki. He took his hand and said gently, "Are you okay?"

"N-No."

"What's wrong?"

"Everything."

"Maybe I could fix it for you?"

Toki sniffled and shook his head. "No, nobodys can fix it."

Pickles frowned at this response and insisted, "But I'd really like to help you fix it, dude."

"I—you can'ts."

"Why nat? How bad could the problem be, anyway?"

He was trembling, his voice breaking as he whispered, "It ams really bad, because the problem ams _me." _once those words had left his mouth, everything else seemed to flood out at once. In an instant he was crying and repeating, "I ams the problem—I said I loved you, I lets you help me, I didn't let you fucks me...it ams my fault."

"Is that what this is about, sex?"

"No, I—I hates it."

"What?" Pickles asked gently, slipping an arm over Toki's shoulder.

"Me."

He was so stricken by this comment, that all he could think to do was shake his head and say over and over again, "Nah you're not, you're n-"

"I-I wants to gos home." Toki said, wiping his tears away. "I wants to just gos home and let my dad kills me."

"But-"

"I would deserve it, anyways." Something inside of Pickles snapped and he shook Toki hard, made him let out a terrified gasp. "Pickle, what ams-"

"Don't _ever _say that in front of me; never. There's nothing that you could ever do to deserve to die, do you understand?" he'd never felt so powerless in his whole life, and as the Norwegian gave him a sad smile, he felt himself losing all hope.

"You don't get it. You'll _never _gets it...everything he said to me, everything he did..." he let out a frustrated sigh and admitted, "I can't forgets it. He ams really bad to me, Pickle."

"Who, your dad?"

He didn't answer this question, but instead continued his own thought. "And I knows that it ams almost the end of summer, and that means that you'll have to gos home, and I don't think I'm ready for that...we haven't even—everyone I love leaves. Maybe it ams me. Maybe I'm not meant to be with anyones..."

"Hey, dude," Pickles said, nudging him lightly, trying desperately to get his attention, "I'm not gonna go anywhere, I swear."

"Yeah you ams."

"No I'm—"

"Pickle, the truth ams that you're going to leaves me," Toki insisted, pulling away from the redhead. "just like everyones else, and you will forgets about me as soon as you ams back in America. I'll never forgets about you, though..." his voice trailed off and he looked sad as he whispered, "You don't belong with me, you belongs in America, not here."

"But-"

"I've been thinkings about it a lot latleys." Toki confessed, meeting the emerald gaze of the other teenager. "And I reallys can't stands it, so I don't think that we should be together anymores."

"_No." _Pickles said firmly, shaking his head. "You're nat gonna try to dump me because you're scared of what might happen. That's bullshit."

"When you leave, then-"

"Is that all this is about? Dude, I'm not gonna leave, not ever." he pulled Toki close to him, embraced him like he'd never done before. To his astonishment, Toki actually melted into the hug. Though he was able to calm the Norwegian down that night, he couldn't help but begin to think about the reality of the situation. Summer was almost over, and he knew very well that he couldn't stay in Norway forever, no matter how much he might want to. Soon, perhaps any day now, his parents would be calling on him to return back to Wisconsin, where he belonged.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

The sky was stunning, full of endless, amazingly feathered clouds. Pickles smiled to himself as he peered out of the window of their room; he could see much of the school. It shined in the early morning sunlight like nothing else he'd ever seen before, and the courtyard full of benches where he and Toki spent much of their time was overgrown with dewy grass. Pickles opened the window and let the fresh air roll into the stuffy, cramped room. A bell sounded out, echoed across the grounds, and below hundreds of teenagers much like himself began switching classes and taking lunch breaks.

"What ams you doing?" Toki inquired, walking up the window and glancing out of it. Clearly he saw nothing impressive. "Close the window; it ams getting chilly."

"S'real nice here." Pickles commented as he latched up the window. "I just may never leave."

This made the Norwegian say moodily, "Shuts up." he walked back over to the bed they shared, picked up a book, and began to read it. Pickles watched him do this, watched as Toki's lips moved to form the words silently, watched as his nimble fingers turned page after page. Without quite knowing what he was doing, he strode over, placed a hand on Toki's cheek, and leaned down to kiss him. He kissed him deeply and longingly, not holding anything back, and this made the Norwegian turn bright red and lay down his book.

Pickles smiled down at him and said boldly, "I'm not gonna forget that—your taste." he'd meant to think this, but of course this didn't work out very well.

Toki smiled and looped his arms around the redhead's neck; he pulled him down, closer to his face, and whispered, "No you won't, because you ams not leaving, remembers?"

"Yeah." he agreed, standing up straighter. He wandered back over to the window and, very silently, began to cry. Tears slipped down his face in steady streams and he wiped them away, but more kept flowing. Only two weeks of his summer vacation remained.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

With only two days of his summer vacation left to spare, Pickles attempted to discover as much as he could about his Toki. In return, he told the Norwegian everything about himself, from his childhood to his brother, and even about how he and Gunther had been romantically involved. Nothing was too trivial or unimportant. They also spent a fair amount of time just playing around—games of tag, hide-and-seek, and I-Spy were only a few ways in which Pickles relived his lost and forgotten childhood. It was odd, but something about Toki awakened the good in him; it was a good that he'd discarded back when he was young. Now, as he watched Toki slip into his _AC/DC _shirt, he couldn't help but to throw a pillow at him and grin.

"Get your ass over here."

"Nos." he said firmly, throwing the pillow right back. "I won'ts."

"Yeah," he insisted, opening up his arms wide. "you will." In an instant Toki had launched himself into Pickles' arms. Just before he could really get comfortable, however, the redhead threw him away and onto the floor. Within a matter of seconds they were wrestling, wrecking the room, and throwing each other to the ground.

"I'm gonna kill you." Pickles hissed as he pinned Toki to the ground. The Norwegian pushed him away roughly and forced him against the wall.

"No, 'cause you ams not going to win."

"I'm nat?" he kissed Toki before unceremoniously pushing him onto the bed. They were both panting, sweating, wanting something that they weren't sure it was time to have.

Finally Toki pulled Pickles down on top of him and whispered in his ear, "I thinks that I'm ready for you nows." he confessed, his cheeks blushing. His voice was so absolute that it left no room for any sort of compromise. Pickles just grinned broadly and settled himself.

"You think so, huh?"

"When do you haves to leave?"

A fair question. "Soon, but it doesn't matter. You don't _have _to do it just 'cause I'm-"

"I know I don't haves to do it—that ams why I want it so fuckings bad."

Just the way he said that—_that ams why I want it so fuckings bad—_made Pickles grow hot. He laughed and leaned forward. "You want it? Fine, I'll give it to you, baby." he kissed him again, snaked his tongue between the other boy's sweet lips, and tasted the warmth of his mouth. Toki moaned and let his guard down enough for Pickles to slip a hand up under his shirt. "Take it off for me." he requested.

He hesitated, appeared to be unsure of himself, and so Pickles removed the thing for him then took off his own. He settled down and began ravaging the Norwegian's body—kissing, biting, and feeling. Warm skin against fingertips, so smooth and young...flawless, so pale and _hot. _Toki was on fire, he was begging for it as Pickles slowly began slipping out of his jeans. "Are you hard yet?" he wondered aloud, running a careful hand up the Norwegian's clothed thigh.

Toki just bit his lower lip and replied meekly, "Ja."

Pickles smiled and backed away slightly. They both knew what should be done here—this was a major decision for Toki, and so he had to be the one to completely give into his lust. That's why Pickles sat back and watched as the other teenager took off his pants and underwear. Pickles did the same then pulled Toki into his lap. "Come'mere." he held him in his arms, hugged him close, and kissed him again and again. "You," he whispered against the Norwegian's neck, "you're mine—_my _virgin."

"Pickle, ams you going to hurt me?"

"Nope."

"What if you dos?"

He thought for a moment then laughed softly. "What, you think I don't know what I'm doin'? I mean, I've never done it with another guy before, but how complicated could it be?" he wondered as his hands slipped down and found Toki's ass. "I just lay you down and-"

Toki cut him off with a kiss then sank down and took Pickles' cock into his hands. He stroked it like he'd done weeks before, only now he held nothing back. His naked body seemed to glow as he took it into his mouth; his hand found his own erection and began rubbing it. Pickles sat back and let him work, let him suck him down into his throat. Please began to rise up inside of him like a maddening spirit waiting to break free. Slowly, he thrust his hips foreword, encouraging more of himself down the other teenager's throat. He bit his lip and then pulled himself away. This was too much too fast. He had to pace things. At the pleased look on Toki's face, he leaned over and kissed him.

"You make me so fuckin' hard."

"Now whats?" he asked, his voice breaking with the anticipation of what was to come.

Pickles gave him a small smile and said kindly, "Lay back for me." Gingerly he placed a hand on Toki's shoulder and guided him back until he was finally laying down. The Norwegian's whole body was tense. He let out a fearful gasp as Pickles' hand traveled down his stomach. "You gotta relax for me. Can you do that?"

He nodded and shut his eyes. "Ja, I can. I'm sorrys, I-"

"What are you apologizing for?"

A pause then, "I-I don't knows."

Pickles continued exploring lower and lower until he was able to take Toki's stiff cock into his hands. The Norwegian looked at him in surprise, but the redhead silenced his concerns and inquiries by running his thumb over the head. It was then that a question came to his mind. "How long have you wanted me to fuck you?"

Toki laughed and said, "Since forevers...I wanted to hates you for beating me up all the times, but—God, what ams you doing to me?"

Pickles had lowered his head and taken the Norwegian's hard dick into his mouth. In a moment he pulled away and began pushing Toki's legs open. He tensed up again, and so Pickles stopped and frowned at him. "You gotta trust me, okay?"

_No, _Toki thought, _not okay. _He'd never trusted anyone his whole life besides his father, and that hadn't turned out well at all. Now, though, as he watched Pickles smile down at him, he couldn't help but to feel a kind of redemption. If anyone from his prior life—from before he'd met Pickles—could see him now, they wouldn't know who he was anymore. Gradually he felt something inside of him give way, and he became thoroughly relaxed under the redhead's longing gaze. _I love him, so it's okay...he won't hurt me..._

The next few minutes seemed to pass by impossibly fast, and soon Pickles was inside of him. Toki accepted him boldly, never faltering or backing out. It was too late for all of that childish stuff now, because now he wasn't a kid anymore. Now he wasn't that same old child he'd been back at his house, fixing breakfast for his ungrateful cousins, hiding in his room, crying, waiting for his father to beat him...no, he wasn't like that anymore. Now he was an adult, or at least he felt like one then, as Pickles thrust into him and moaned.

He watched the other boy with his blue, pure eyes full of affection. It wasn't lust or desire—though this was intermingled within his pale eyes—but more of an unchecked admiration towards the other boy that filled his being at that point. Toki couldn't believe that anyone could be so wonderful to him, so understanding and gentle. For the first time in his life he felt like a person, not just a mere waste of flesh and blood. Without warning he began to cry. It was as though then, right as Pickles leaned down and whispered to him, "I love you." that every pain and heartache that he'd felt in his whole life filled him—he began trembling, struggling to retain his emotions.

He was in ecstasy, he was in agony, and perhaps above all, he was in love.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Pickles watched Toki sleep; it was early the next morning and he knew what he had to do. He'd gotten the call from his parents yesterday. He knew that today was the day he had to leave. Although he had a nearly overwhelming urge to awaken the Norwegian and make love to him again, he resisted it and rolled out of bed. He grabbed some old clothes and walked silently into the bathroom. He knew that Toki deserved better than this, and a horrible guilt filled his heart as he turned on the shower and grabbed a towel. The Norwegian should have someone better, someone that didn't live hundreds of miles and a whole world away. Pickles swallowed down his sadness and climbed into the steaming shower.

He had to get ready as soon as he could so he could catch his plane and go home. Would he tell Toki goodbye? No. It would be too hard for him. He'd cry, he'd fall apart, he'd-

"Pickle, why ams you taking a shower so early? It's only six in the mornings."

The redhead sighed and peered around the shower curtain. Toki was standing in the middle of the small bathroom in nothing but his _AC/DC _shirt. His hair was incredibly messy and untamed; Pickles felt like pulling him into the shower and ripping off that damn shirt. He'd fuck him again, and then...go home? "I...well I-"

"I was just wonderings, 'cause I know that you ams gonna wanna get breakfast, sos-"

"Nah, I think I'll skip it today." Pickles said, giving him a gentle smile. Toki arched a brow.

"But whats abouts detention? We haves to go, and you always gets angry when you're hungry."

"I don't think that'll be a problem."

"Buts-"

"I don't think I'll be eating breakfast here anymore." he said, giving Toki a nod of affirmation. _Yeah, _he communicated silently, _that's right—I gotta go._ All at once the Norwegian's eyes had filled with a horrible understanding, and in an instant he was sobbing. "Toki," Pickles tried to explain as the steaming water of the shower washed over him, "listen, it isn't my choice. I would stay here forever with you if I could, but-"

"Please don'ts go! This ams not fair!" he cried, jumping into the shower with the redhead. He wrapped his arms around Pickles and pulled him into an impossibly tight hug. "I loves you so much...you can't leave!"

"I have to, dude. I'm sorry, but it isn't my choice."

"I'll never sees you again!"

"You think I don't know 'dat?" he asked quietly, kissing the top of his head. "I can't even think about it—what it's gonna be like to wake up and just nat have you next to me no more. It's gonna be Hell."

For some reason he ran out of things to say, despite the fact that he had about a million thoughts brewing in his brain. All he could think to do was hold Toki close, let the water rush over the both of them, and begin to cry too. "I'll be fine," he whispered in his love's ear, cradling him like he was the most prized thing in the world, "and you'll be fine, too..."

And this, he knew, was a lie.

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

Toki helped Pickles pack his suitcase after that. Few things were said because everything between them was already understood. They both knew just how the other felt about them, and so they didn't want to spoil the last few precious minutes of their time together talking uselessly. Pickles cried in silence as he zipped up his suitcase. Beside him Toki stood, staring down at the floor, letting tears run down his smooth cheeks. Finally it was done, this was it. After Pickles walked out of the door, he'd never return. They'd be apart forever. Although he knew that flings like this were common and never lasted, the redhead couldn't help but think that this was so much more than that. He really loved this kid, this other boy who before he'd tried to beat to death.

Pickles blinked back tears. He met Toki's gaze and saw his own pitiful, weak reflection staring back at him. "I-I'm never gonna forget you."

"And I'm never going to forget you eithers."

"Swear?"

He nodded and reached for Pickles' hand. "Don'ts be stupid."

"I...uh...well, I love you, dude."

"Ja, I knows you do."

Gunther had been right about one thing—when Toki said 'ja', it really was irresistibly cute. Pickles smiled bitterly. He had to let this go now, this wonderfully amazing person that, in time, would forget about him and give his heart to someone else. Without shame he pulled the other boy into an embrace and kissed his forehead. "I love you so fuckin' much."

Toki's eyes flitted down to the floor as more tears began to flow. "Ja," he said, "I knows."

"Goodbye, Toki."

"Goodbye, Pickle. Good luck in wherever it ams you're going."

"Yeah," he said, walking out the door, "you too."

**[]][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]] []][[]]]][[[]]][[]**

**_7 YEARS LATER_**

Pickles sat around a table with four other men who, unlike him, were all watching as yet another guitarist showed them his skill. He was quite well off now, had been for the past few years. After his last band had plummeted into oblivion, he'd joined another one, one whose popularity was rising to staggering levels. There was Skiwsgaar, the blond Swede who reminded him so much of his teenage love, Toki; there was Nathan, the singer, and then Murderface. There was also a man named Ofdensen, who ensured the band's financial survival. There had been another man with them, the rhythm guitarist, but he'd quit out of a matter of pride. Now they all sat around a stupid table holding auditions for a replacement, debating on who was the least horrible.

Pickles had just about given up all home by the ninety-fifth wistful, wide-eyed guitarist, and he laid his head down on the table and tried to get some sleep. He'd gotten quite drunk the night before, and now he was regretting it. Finally, as Ofdensen excused the ninety-fifth hopeful, the end was in sight. "It would appear as if we have only one more guitarist left to see," Ofdensen said. Still Pickles didn't raise his head. He was thinking back to a summer seven years ago, when his parents had sent him away to a foreign school...

...the summer he'd met the one, true love of his life...

...then lost him.

Now he listened faintly as Skwisgaar let out a groan of something close to agony and exclaimed, "But none of them ammnest any goods! Fucks this shit, I'm dones!"

"But he's been sitting outside since yesterday—nothing to eat or drink, just waiting for us to see him, Skwisgaar." Ofdensen insisted.

Nathan sighed. "What's the idiot's name?"

A pause, then, "Well, I don't know his name exactly. It's foreign, hard to say...T—Tokyo, I think."

Murderface laughed insanely. "You think we're letting a fag like _Tokyo _into our band? That'sh bullshit!"

"Just please give him a chance. He'll be coming in shortly and—Pickles!" Ofdensen snapped, throwing his pen at the drummer. "Would you like to join in the conversation?"

He didn't have to think about this before he was answering, never picking up his head, "Nah, I'm good. You get to it, dude. I trust you."

He sighed and nodded. "Very well, then." there was a slight click as the door opened and a familiar scent filled the air. Pickles perked up slightly, but didn't raise up his head. It smelled like...

"Gentlemen," Ofdensen announced, "may I introduce you to-"

"Tokis," a kind and warm voice said, "Tokis Wartooth."

Slowly, so slowly, Pickles looked up and dared to meet eyes with the stranger. Was this a trick? The person that stood in front of the band was slender, had long, caramel-colored hair. He was the most beautiful person that the redhead had ever seen since that summer long ago. A slow, steady smile grew across Pickles' face as he stared at Toki, and the Norwegian just grinned right back. It was time to pick things up from where they'd left off.


End file.
